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TEMPTATIONS 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  •  SAN  DIFGO   ' 

by 
FRIENDS  OF  THE  LIBRARY 

_  MR.    JOHN  C.   ROSE 


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A  STUDY 
IN  TEMPTATIONS 


THE  "  UNKNOWN"  LIBRARY 


THE  "UNKNOWN"  LIBRARY, 

1.  MLLEi,  IXE.     Ky  LANOK  FALCONER. 

2.  STORY     OF     ELEANOR     LAM- 

BERT.    By  MAGDALEN  BROOKE. 

3.  MYSTERY  OF  THE  CAMPAGNA 

By  VON  DEGEN. 

4.  THE      FRIEND     OF      DEATH. 

Adapted  by  MANY  I.  SEKKANO. 

5.  PHILIPPA.     By  ELLA. 

6.  THE  HOTEL  D'ANGLETERRE. 

ByLANOE  FALCONER. 

7.  AMARYLLIS.       By     TEKITIOS 

AP02INH2. 
3.  SOME     EMOTIONS    AND     A 

MORAL.    By  IOHN  OLIVER  HOBUES. 
9.  EUROPEAN    RELATIONS.      By 

TALMAGE  DAI.IN. 

10.  JOHN  SHERMAN,  and  DHOYA. 

By  GANCONAGH. 

11.  THROUGH  THE    RED-LITTEN 

WINDOWS.    By  THEODOR  HERTZ- 
IS.  BACK  FROM  THE    DEAD.      By 
SAOUI  SMITH. 

13.  IN    TENT    AND    BUNGALOW. 

By  AN  IDLE  EXILE. 

14.  THE   SINNER'S   COMEDY.      By 

JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBHS. 
75.  THE  WEE  WIDOW'S  CRUISE. 
By  AN  IDLE  EXILE. 

16.  A    NEW    ENGLAND    CACTUS. 

By  FRANK  POPE  HUMPHREY. 

17.  GREEN  TEA.      By  V.  SCHALLEN- 

BERGER. 

18.  A  SPLENDID  COUSIN.     By  MRS. 

ANDREW  DEAN. 

19.  GENTLEMAN     UPCOTT'S 

DAUGHTER.   By  TOM  COBUI.EIGH. 

20.  AT  THE  T  H  RES  HOLD.      By 

LAI'RA  DEARBORN. 

21.  HER   HEART  WAS   TRUE.     By 

AN  IDLE  EXILE. 

22.  THE  LAST  KING  OF  YEWLE. 

By  P.  L.  McDERMOTT. 

23.  A    STUDY    IN    TEMPTATIONS. 

By  JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBES. 

24.  THE  PALIMPSEST.     By  GILBERT 

AUGUSTIN  THIERRY. 

25.  SQUIRE  HELLMAN,  and  Other 

Stories.     By  JUHANI  AHO. 

26.  A     FATHER  OF  SIX.     By   N.  E. 

POTAPERKO. 

27.  THE  TWO  COUNTESSES.      Ey 

MARIE  EBNEK  VON  ESCHENBACH. 


Hi*.00 

TOO 


THE   "UNKNOWN"  LIBRARY 

A  STUDY 
IN  TEMPTATIONS 


BY 
JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBES 

AUTHOR  OF  "  SOME  EMOTIONS  AND  A  MORAL," 
"  THE  SINNER'S  COMEDY  " 


NEW  YORK 

CASSELL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
104  &  106  FOURTH  AVENUE 


COPYRIGHT,  1803.  BY 
CASSELL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved. 


THE   MERSHON   COMPANY   PRESS, 
RAHWAY,   N.   J. 


To  A. 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

SUNDRY  CONVERSATIONS, 

WORMWOOD    SCRUBS, 

AND  A 
DAY   IN  FEBRUARY. 

Pallas,  take  away  thine  owl  and  let  us  have 
a  lark  instead 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE. 


IN  the  brief  sketches  of  Fanner  Battle  and 
Miss  Caroline  Battle,  the  author's  aim  has 
been  to  suggest,  not  to  reproduce,  a  dialect ; 
and  by  so  doing  he  ventures  to  think  he  is 
humbly  following  many  great  examples. 


"  IN  order  to  judge  whether  what  is  said 
or  done  by  any  character  be  well  or  ill,  we  are 
not  to  consider  that  speech  or  action  alone, 
whether  in  itself  it  be  good  or  bad,  but  also 
by  whom  it  is  spoken  or  done,  to  whom,  at 
what  time,  in  what  manner,  or  for  what 
end.  .  .  . 

"  To  opinion,  or  what  is  commonly  said  to 
be,  may  be  referred  even  such  things  as  are 
improbable  and  absurd  ;  and  it  may  also  be 
said  that  events  of  that  kind  are,  sometimes, 
not  really  improbable  ;  since  '  it  is  probable 
that  many  things  should  happen  contrary  to 
probability.'" — ARISTOT.,  Poet. 


PREFACE  TO  SECOND 
EDITION. 


[HIS  little  work  has  been 
received  with  such  extraor- 
dinary kindness,  and  the 
author  has  been  scolded 
for  its  faults  with  such 
generosity  and  grace,  that 
he  could  almost  wish  he  might  offend 
his  critics  again,  if  only  for  the  honor 
of  being  so  wittily  rebuked.  There  is 
a  story  told  of  a  man  who  begged  his 
wife  to  tell  him  his  besetting  sin,  "  in 
order,"  said  he,  "  that  I  may  conquer 
it,  and  so  please  you  in  all  respects." 
With  much  reluctance,  and  only  after 
many  exhortations  to  be  honest,  the 
lady  replied  that  she  feared  he  was 
selfish.  "  I  am  not  perfect,"  said  her 
husband,  "and  perhaps  I  am  a  sinful 
creature,  but  if  there  is  one  fault 


Xll  PREFACE. 

which  I  thank  God  I  do  not  possess 
it  is  selfishness.  Anything  but  that ! " 
and  as  he  spoke  he  passed  her.  the 
apples — they  were  at  luncheon — and 
set  himself  to  work  on  the  only  peach. 
Now  the  author  is  in  the  same  frame 
of  mind  with  regard  to  the  charge  of 
flippancy  :  he  cannot  bring  himself  to 
own  that  he  is  flippant  ;  he  longs  to 
be  told  his  shortcomings,  he  is  most 
eager  to  please  his  readers  in  all  re- 
spects, but  he  will  not  admit  that  he 
is  cynical — anything  but  that.  He  is 
by  nature  so  extremely  serious  that, 
like  the  good  angel  who  liked  laugh- 
ter, he  has  thought  it  wiser  to  curb 
his  disposition,  at  all  events  for  the 
present.  A  greater  part  of  the  book 
was  composed  under  the  strain  of 
bad  health,  and  all  of  it  in  circum- 
stances of  peculiar  anxiety.  If  the 
author  had  written  as  he  felt  and 
thought,  the  result  would  have  been 
very  far  from  amusing.  And  his  sole 
aim  has  been  to  amuse.  In  times  of 
illness,  irritability,  and  grief  he  has 
often  cast  about  him  for  some  light 
reading — simple,  yet  not  altogether 
meaningless;  unreal,  yet  not  impossi- 
ble ;  he  has  longed  to  draw  a  veil  on 
actualities  and  see  a  shadow-life  frisk- 
ing on  tiptoes,  followed  by  a  dance  of 
sorrows  and  a  merry-making  of  cares. 
He  does  not  presume  to  say  that  he 
has  fulfilled  his  own  desire  in  the 


PREFACE. 


Xlll 


following  pages,  but  the    desire   in 
question  may  explain  their  tone. 

In  conclusion,  this  fantasia  makes 
no  claim  to  the  great  title  of  novel,  and 
is,  indeed,  no  more  than  it  is  called — 
"A  Study  in  Temptations" — and  it 
will  be  found  that  at  least  one  form 
of  temptation,  if  not  more,  is  dealt 
with  in  each  chapter. 


STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS 


PROLOGUE. 


WHICH  CONTAINS  ALL  THE  TRAGEDY 
OF    THE    BOOK. 

]AR  Y  CECILIA,  aged  seven- 
teen, with  whom  lies  buried 
all  the  hope,  all  the  belief 
in  God  and  goodness  of  her 
husband,  Charles  Sydney 
Jenyns. 

The  grave-digger  who  spelled  out 
this  inscription  on  the  coffin  nudged 
his  companion,  and  they  clambered 
up  the  sides  of  the  grave  to  stare 
after  a  man,  who,  with  dragging  steps 
and  bent  head,  was  slowly  groping 
his  way  out  of  the  cemetery.  He 
avoided  the  path,  and  slunk  round 
and  among  the  numerous  mounds 
and  monuments,  frequently  stum- 
bling,  and  often  halting  outright. 


2         A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Did  you  see  'is  face  ?  "  said  the 
elder  of  the  grave-diggers  ;  "  'e  aint 
a  day  more'n  two-and-twenty. 
'Taint  everyone  as  marries  so  fool- 
'ardy  young  as  gits  out  of  it  so 
easy  !  " 

His  assistant,  less  philosophical, 
but  more  kindly,  blinked  his  eyes 
and  gave  a  cheerless  laugh.  "  'E 
pro'bly  thinks,"  he  said,  "  as  'e's  the 
'ardest  done-by  in  the  'ole  world. 
'E  don't  see  as  it  all  stands  to  reason, 
as  you  and  me  do,  bless  yer.  'E 
only  thinks  as  when  'e  gits  'ome 
there  won't  be  nobody  there  !  " 

"  I  knows  some,"  said  his  senior, 
with  a  grim  smile,  "as  'ud  thank 
the  Almighty  if  they  could  go  'ome 
and  find  the  'ouse  empty.  They 
wouldn't  say  nothink  agin  the  good- 
ness of  Gord,  they  wouldn't.  They 
wouldn't  be  writin'  none  of  this  'ere. 
They  would  be  foldin'  their  'ancft 
and  sayin'  as  Gord's  will  is  for  the 
best,  and  be-yaving  theirselves  like 
Christians  !  " 

Then  they  resumed  their  work, 
and  in  working  forgot  to  moralize. 

The  object  of  their  remarks, 
meanwhile,  having  refused  to  drive 
home  in  the  solitary  mourning 
coach,  which,  with  the  hearse,  had 
formed  the  funeral  procession,  found 
his  strength  so  unequal  to  the  task 
of  walking,  that  he  sank  on  a  bench 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.         .3 

outside  a  public-house,  which  stood 
conveniently  near  the  entrance  to 
the  cemetery.  He  was,  as  the  grave- 
digger  had  observed,  quite  young 
and  certainly  not  more  than  two-and- 
Uventy.  He  was  tall,  but  somewhat 
bent — not  that  he  stooped,  there  was 
rather  a  leaning  forward  of  his  whole 
body.  His  brilliant  eyes  seemed  to 
have  burnt  deep  into  their  sockets, 
and  they  cast  a  flickering  light  on  the 
pallor  of  his  cheeks,  which  looked 
the  more  pale  in  contrast  with  his 
dark  hair. 

He  was  at  an  early  stage  of  grief, 
and  he  felt  as  though  he  were  two 
beings — one,  speechless  and  stricken  ; 
the  other,  a  mere  spectator,  who  phi- 
losophized, and  mocked,  and  wept, 
and  laughed  by  starts  and  was  only 
constant  in  watching.  That  he  was 
sorrowful,  he  guessed — but  what  was 
sorrow?  He  knew  that  he  had  loved 
• — yet  what  was  love  ?  He  lived — and 
what  was  life  ?  Mary  was  dead. 
Immortality  might  be,  but  she  once 
was.  Oh,  lovely  fact  to  weigh  against 
the  ghost-like  possibility. 

To  whatever  end  his  thoughts  were 
tending  (and  the  way  was  broad), 
they  were  diverted,  for  the  moment 
at  least,  by  the  potman,  who,  moved 
by  compassion,  or  following  his  invari- 
able custom  in  dealing  with  mourners, 
came  out  to  tell  him,  that  there  was 


4          A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

a  private  room  within,  where  he  would 
find  a  fire,  writing  materials,  and  the 
daily  papers.  Jenyns,  to  his  own 
amazement,  but  as  the  potman  had 
foreseen,  acted  on  the  hint  and  fol- 
lowed him  into  a  small,  musty  room 
which  barely  atoned  for  its  stale 
odor,  its  dismal  light  and  oppressive 
warmth,  by  being  empty.  The  pot- 
man poked  the  fire,  smoothed  out 
the  Sportsman,  stirred  the  ink  with 
the  one  quill  in  the  pen-tray,  and, 
while  thus  exercising  his  hands,  had 
his  eyes  and  his  wits  concentrated 
on  the  mysterious  and  melancholy 
wayfarer. 

The  interest  Jenyns  had  created 
in  the  minds  of  the  grave-diggers, 
was  slight  compared  with  the  sensa- 
tion he  had  as  unconsciously  pro- 
duced among  the  patrons  of  the 
Jolly  Nell.  (The  original  sign  had 
been  the  Jolly  Knell,  but  this 
having  been  repudiated  by  the 
present  proprietor — an  Irishman — as 
Dutch  spelling,  the  K  was  painted 
out).  Jenyns'  bearing,  appearance, 
and  expression  were  so  unusual,  and 
his  features  so  handsome,  that  had 
the  same  gossips  met  him  under  the 
most  commonplace  conditions,  they 
would  still  have  paused  to  guess  his 
calling,  or  to  wonder  what  path  lay 
before  him.  On  this  occasion,  how- 
ever, the  despair  on  his  countenance, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.          5 

the  possible  romance  connected  with 
it,  and  the  unlikeness  between  him- 
self and  the  mean — almost  abject — 
circumstances  of  the  funeral,  gave 
him  a  prominence  far  greater  than  if 
he  had"  buried  his  dead  with  every 
elegant  sign  of  still  more  elegant  grief. 
As  the  landlady  pointed  out,  had 
he  been  really  poor,  he  would  have 
driven  home  in  the  carriage — a  poor 
man  could  not  afford  to  miss  such 
chances  ;  further,  he  would  not  have 
been  alone,  for  his  family,  or  at  least 
his  neighbors,  would  have  seized 
the  opportunity  for  a  breath  of  fresh 
air  and  a  nice  change  ;  they  would 
have  made  it,  in  fact,  a  chastened 
holiday  jaunt.  She  did  not  use  that 
particular  phrase,  but  her  nod  was  to 
that  effect.  Her  crowning  observa- 
tion that  he  was  a  student,  or  some- 
thing of  that,  who  had  got  some 
young  woman  into  trouble,  and  the 
poor  thing  had  died  of  a  broken 
heart,  and  he  was  being  eat  up  by 
remorse,  was  made  in  a  whisper  so 
thrilling  that  it  pierced  through  the 
thin  door  and  reached  Jenyns'  sensi- 
tive ear.  He  waited  to  hear  no  more, 
but  leaving  half  a  crown  (his  last)  on 
the  table,  walked  so  qrfickly  and 
noiselessly  out  of  the  house,  that  the 
group  in  the  bar-room,  who  were  so 
eagerly  discussing  him,  did  not  notice 
his  departure. 


€          A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

Once  on  the  main  road,  he  seemed 
to  gain  a  certain  composure  and  his 
strength  of  limb  ;  he  walked  hur- 
riedly and  was,  in  fact,  racing  against 
the  thoughts  which  threatened  every 
/moment  to  outstrip  and  overcome 
him.  When  he  finally  halted  it  was 
nearly  evening,  and  he  had  reached 
a  dingy  dwelling  in  one  of  the  streets 
near  King's  Cross.  The  neighbor- 
hood was  poor  and  the  dooi  of  the 
house  stood  open — as  doors  may, 
when  there  is  little  to  offer  friends 
and  nothing  to  tempt  the  thieving. 

A  small  boy  and  his  mother  stood 
by  the  area  railings,  and  they  both 
looked  after  Jenyns  as  he  passed  in. 

"  Mother,"  said  the  boy,  tugging 
at  the  woman's  apron — "  mother, 
next  time  a  lodger  dies  may  I  have 
another  half-holiday  ?  " 

Jenyns  heard  the  question,  and, 
smiling  faintly,  walked  slowly  up  the 
creaking  staircase  till  he  reached  a 
room  on  the  fourth  landing.  He 
crept  in  and  gazed  stupidly  around 
it;  noticed  that  there  was  a  cupboard 
door  half  open,  a  few  medicine  bottles 
on  the  mantelpiece,  a  pile  of  women's 
garments  on  a  chair,  a  white  straw 
hat,  trimmed  with  ribbons,  on  the 
chest  of  drawers.  Inch  by  inch  his 
eyes  traveled  from  the  chair  to  the 
table,  from  the  table  to  the  floor, 
from  the  floor  to  a  pair  of  small 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.          1 

muddy  shoes  with  ridiculous  French 
heels,  from  the  shoes  to  the  bed,  and 
there,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  he  saw 
her  lying  as  she  had  been  for  two 
days  past,  before  they  lifted  her  into 
the  coffin. 

"  God  !  O  God  ! "  he  called. 

But  no  God  answered. 

He  bent  over  the  imaginary  form. 
"  Wake  up  !  "  he  whispered — "  wake 
up !  You  are  dreaming,  that's  all. 
You  have  often  dreamt  before. 
Wake  up  !  Mary  !  Mary  !  are  you 
so  tired  ? " 

Outside  the  house  he  heard  a 
rustling,  a  strange  shrieking  and 
wailing.  Was  it  all  the  wind  ?  It 
seemed  to  the  half-crazed  man  a 
Presence — a  host  of  Presences 
swarming  in  at  the  windows,  down 
the  chimney,  and  gathering  round 
him. 

"  I  do  not  fear  you,"  he  said  ; 
"  there  is  no  worse  torment  than 
living.  Where  you  are,  Hell  must 
be,  and  you  are  everywhere.  Pain 
is  nothing ;  everything  is  nothing. 
You  are  nothing.  But — damn  you — 
I  will  believe  in  you  if  you  can 
wake " — he  pointed  to  the  empty 
bed — "  if  you  can  wake  one  of  us." 

•'I  cannot,"  said  a  sorrowful  voice. 
Jenyns  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  burst 
out  laughing. 

"  Oh,  is  it  only  you,  Wrath  ?  "   he 


8          A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

said.  "  What  a  fool  I  am  ;  I  thought 
you  were  the  devil." 

The  man  he  addressed,  and  who 
had  followed  him  into  the  room 
unperceived,  was  of  middle  height 
and  extraordinarily  thin :  his  fea- 
tures and  form  looked  misty  and  ill- 
defined,  as  through  he  stood  behind 
a  cloud  and  were  trying  to  pierce 
through  it. 

"  Would  you  have  your  wife  live 
again  that  she  may  die  again?"  he 
said,  quietly — "  that  you  may  bury 
her  again  ? " 

"  No,  no,"  muttered  Jenyns — "  no, 
no,  not  this  again.  A  jump  from 
the  window  or  a  prick  at  my  throat 
would  settle  my  mind  for  ever.  If 
there  is  a  hereafter  I  would  know  it, 
and  if  there  isn't — well,  I  could  not 
feel  the  disappointment.  Clay  has 
no  illusions  to  lose.  You  see,"  he 
added,  "  I  have  not  called  up  the 
devil  for  nothing  !  " 

Jenyns'  idea  of  religion  —  picked 
from  street  corners  and  Ingersoll — 
began  and  ended  with  the  doctrine 
of  Eternal  Punishment.  When  he 
was  happy  and  thought  himself  an 
enlightened  believer  in  the  possibility 
of  a  Supreme  Reason,  he  forgot  it ; 
when  he  was  in  trouble,  he  could 
think  of  nothing  else.  Sometimes  it 
filled  him  with  panic,  sometimes  with 
desperation  ;  more  often  than  all  with 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.  9 

a  longing  to  be  in  the  Place  of  Tor- 
ment— to  know  the  worst,  to  put  an 
end  to  the  torturing  suspense  and 
doubt. 

"If  the  devil  can  answer  your 
curses,"  said  Wrath,  "  why  not  try 
whether  God  will  answer  prayers?" 

"  Cursing  is  quick,"  said  Jenyns, 
"  and  prayers  are  long.  Call  Satan 
but  under  your  breath  and  he  comes. 
But  God — you  may  wear  out  your 
knees  and  your  voice  before  he  will 
answer,  and  then  he  will  give  you 
not  peace  but  a  word,  not  ease  but 
a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  not  love  but 
chastisements  !  The  greater  the 
saint,  the  thicker  the  scourge ! 
Where's  the  fool  who  would  pray 
day  and  night  for  such  blessings  ? 
Have  I  not  grief  enough  and  de- 
spair enough  but  I  must  entreat  for 
more  ? " 

Wrath  groaned.  "  Human  nature 
is  so  discontented  ! "  he  said.  "  I 
have  been  starving  for  a  month,  and 
I  must  own  that  this  constant  gnaw- 
ing at  one's  vitals  becomes  tedious  ; 
I  would  prefer  a  newer  pain." 

"  Let  us  both  pray  for  another 
sort  of  anguish,"  said  Jenyns,  "the 
good  old  monks  were  artistic  ;  they 
believed  that  variety  was  beauty,  so 
they  occasionally  skinned  a  heretic 
before  they  boiled  him  !  " 

Wrath  accepted  this  as  a  sign  of 


10        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

returning  cheerfulness.  "  The  storv 
runs  so  well,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not 
be  pedantic  and  press  for  your 
authority.  But  it  sounds  like  an 
evangelical  tract."  He  rose  from 
his  seat  and  began  to  pace  the  floor. 
Life  to  him  was  a  pilgrimage,  and 
the  fortunes  and  misfortunes  of  the 
journey  troubled  him  but  little  ;  he 
could  not  understand  despair.  "  Per- 
haps you  are  best  alone,"  he  said  ; 
"  my  mother  used  to  say  that  to  be 
alone  with  grief  was  to  live  in  com- 
pany  with  angels.  I  think  she 
knew ;  she  had  a  great  deal  to 
endure.  If  I  sell  my  picture  we  can 
run  over  to  Venice  together ;  I 
mean,  of  course,  if  you  would  care 
to  go  with  me.  I  do  not  wonder 
this  room  is  gloomy ;  it  has  stolen 
the  odor  of  a  dozen  honest  dinners. 
Let  us  go  down  in  the  kitchen  and 
see  the  baby.  I  sketched  her  th:s 
morning  ;  here  it  is  :  « Study  of  an 
Infant  Genius  :  aged  four  days.'  " 

"  Don't  talk  of  her,"  said  Jenyns, 
fiercely  ;  "  I  never  wish  to  look  upon 
her  face  again.  She  killed  her 
mother.  I  see  no  God  in  nature — 
only  Hell,  cruel,  relentless,  hideous." 

"  Bah  !  "  said  Wrath.  "  Don't  get 
your  nose  in  an  artificial  manure 
heap  and  think  you  are  studying 
nature.  If  you  take  Zola  for  your 
gospel  and  the  gospel  for  fiction, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        II 

God  must  help  you.  I  cannot. 
Where  is  your  spirit  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  want  to  be  a  hero," 
said  Jenyns,  sullenly,  "  or  a  saint ;  I 
want  my  wife." 

"  Heroes  and  husbands  are  made 
by  the  occasion,"  said  Wrath  ;  "  no 
one  is  born  a  husband,  and  no  one  is 
born  a  pious,  homicidal  hero  !  At 
first  he  is  just  man — man  with  a 
birthright  of  seven  deadly  sins  and 
one  small  conscience.  There  never 
was  a  saint,  you  may  rest  perfectly 
sure,  but  he  might  have  fallen 
twenty  times  a  day,  if  he  had  not 
fought  the  enemy  with  fine  courage. 
Why  don't  you  howl  because  the 
trees  are  bare?  Who  would  think 
that  such  grim  skeletons  could  ever 
be  bright  with  leaves  again,  or  look 
just  as  they  did  last  year  ?  Yet  they 
will  ;  and  so,  when  the  time  comes, 
you  will  see  your  wife  ;  you  have 
only  buried  the  dead  leaves  of  a 
soul." 

At  no  time  an  eloquent  man  but 
always  one  to  whom  speech  was 
even  a  painful  effort,  he  went  out  of 
the  room  after  this  outburst.  With 
the  inconsequence  of  the  artistic 
reason  he  had  a  sudden  idea  for 
a  picture  he  was  then  design- 
ing. 

Jenyns  was  once  more  alone.  He 
gave  a  feeble  laugh  and  hurried  to 


12        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

the  window  ;  it  was  open  ;  he  looked 
down  and  shivered.  Then  he  looked 
up  at  the  dark  sky. 

"  God,"  he  said,  "  if  you  are  there, 
and  if  you  know  everything,  you 
must  be  sorry  for  me." 

He  climbed  up  on  the  sill,  held 
out  his  arms,  and  with  a  sob  leapt 
into  the  night  and  eternity. 

A  second  later  Wrath  re-entered. 
He  was  breathless,  and  was  reading 
a  letter. 

"  Now  admit,"  he  said,  "  there 
is  a  God  who  answers  prayers. 
We  can  go  to  Venice.  Tooth  has 
sold  my  '  Antigone.'  Three  hun- 
dred  " 

His  only  answer  was  a  shout  of 
horror,  a  hum  of  voices,  a  sound  of 
hurrying  in  the  street  below.  He 
leaned  out  of  the  window  and  under- 
stood the  confusion. 

"Mater  Dei!"  he  cried.  "Ah? 
don't  groan  !  Lift  him  gently  ! 
Take  care  !  Five  pounds — twenty 
— to  the  man  who  is  quickest  with 
the  doctor  !  " 

A  man  looked  up  from  the  crowd. 
"  I  should  like  to  see  the  five 
pound  fust"  he  said.  A  faint  titter 
greeted  his  wisdom  ;  an  old  woman 
sobbed. 

"Come  away  !  "  said  a  girl,  who 
was  hanging  on  the  arm  of  her  sweet- 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        13 

heart  ;  "  there  is  always  something 
to  spoil  my  evening  out  !  " 

The  titter  and  the  sob,  the  sweet- 
heart's retreating  footsteps,  and 
Jenyns'  death  moan,  each  gave 
their  note  to  the  great  unceasing 
murmur  of  the  city. 


CHAPTER  I. 
UP-AT-BATTLE'S. 

JHE  family  of  Drawne  was 
not  distinguished  till  the 
time  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, when  one  Richard 
Drawne  was  rewarded  for 
his  holy  zeal  in  the  sup- 
pression of  monasteries,  by  a  large 
grant  of  confiscated  church  property, 
including  the  Abbey  of  St.  Wilfred, 
with  *  the  manor-house,  monastery, 
and  demesne  lands  of  the  same, 
amounting  to  four  thousand  three 
hundred  acres.  He  did  not  live 
long  to  enjoy  his  honors,  but  died 
of  a  fever,  leaving  his  daughter, 
Anne,  sole  heiress.  In  the  reign  of 
Edward  VI.  this  lady  married  the 
Earl  of  Warbeck  and  thus  brought 
her  great  wealth  to  that  ancient 
house,  which  had  become  sadly 
impoverished  for  various  but  un- 
interesting causes.  The  heiress, 
however,  was  very  tenacious  of  her 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        15 

female  right,  and  left  no  legal  loop- 
holes by  which  her  property  could 
become  one  with  the  Warbeck  peer- 
age ;  the  Drawne  acres  were  an 
inheritance  past  comparison  with 
any  empty  earldom.  But  during 
three  centuries  of  struggle  and 
change  which  followed,  male  heirs 
in  direct  succession  never  failed, 
and  the  Earls  of  Warbeck,  by  in- 
nocently anticipating  the  miraculous 
policy  of  the  Vicar  of  Bray,  not  only 
held  their  possessions,  but  escaped 
the  inconvenient  glories  of  persecu- 
tion and  martyrdom. 

At  the  time  of  our  story,  Henry 
Fitzgerald  George  Vandeleur  Shan- 
non was  fifteenth  Earl  of  Warbeck, 
and  one  Jane  Shannon  stood  in  the  in- 
considerable relation  of  niece  to  his 
lordship.  Jane's  father  had  been  the 
fourth  son  of  the  late  Earl — a  kinship 
in  itself  sufficiently  contemptible 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  heir,  but 
when  the  said  fourth  son  married 
the  daughter  of  a  yeoman-farmer,  he 
lost  even  the  small  right  he  had  to 
twinkle  in  the  Warbeck  heaven,  and 
was  considered — not  a  fallen  star, 
but  no  star  at  all. 

Since  the  object  of  such  just  indig- 
nation and  scorn  was  unable  to  earn 
his  own  bread  (from  the  fact,  no 
doubt,  that  he  had  half-killed  himself 
writing  a  Prize  Essay — "  De  La- 


l6       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

bore  "),  he  lived  on  the  charity  of 
his  yeoman  father-in-law  till,  as  he 
himself  expressed  it,  he  left  a  world 
where  he  was  not  wanted,  to  abide 
with  that  sleek  host,  the  worm.  In 
other  words,  he  died  of  his  own  grim 
humor,  assisted  by  a  certain  difficulty 
in  breathing,  a  trouble  in  his  liver,  a 
pain  in  his  head,  and  a  grip  in  his 
left  side.  His  wife,  who  was  with 
child-  at  the  time  of  his  death,  post- 
poned breaking  her  heart  till  she  had 
brought  forth  her  little  one,  and  then 
she  turned  her  sad  face  to  the  wall, 
and  died  also.  The  care  of  the  child 
thus  fell  to  the  yeoman-farmer,  who, 
by  this  time,  may  be  said  to  have 
some  claim  on  the  reader's  sympathy. 
Samuel  Battle — such  was  his  name 
— came  of  sound  stock.  One  John 
Battle  and  Matthew  his  brother  had 
fought  under  Cromwell.  Their  de- 
scendants, under'  the  Restoration, 
had,  with  two  exceptions,  abandoned 
the  field  of  war  for  the  more  tranquil, 
if  less  conspicuous,  honors  of  farm- 
ing. Of  the  exceptions,  one  was  a 
certain  Anthony,  a  scholar  and  wit, 
who  wrote  some  love  verses  and  a 
comedy  (compositions,  which,  dying 
to  posterity,  had  left  their  reputation 
like  some  unhallowed  spirit  fco  haunt 
the  family  conscience)  ;  the  other, 
Nicholas,  was  one  of  the  some  two 
thousand  clergy  who  were  expelled 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        17 

from  their  parishes  for  Nonconformity 
in  1662.  It  was  from  this  Nicholas 
that  Samuel  Battle,  the  yeoman- 
farmer,  took  his  descent.  Jane  Shan- 
non was  heiress,  therefore,  to  many 
conflicting  dispositions. 

Battle's  farm,  or,  as  it  was  known 
in  the  district,  "  Up-at-Battle's"  lay 
some  eight  miles  to  the  east  of  Brent- 
more,  a  small  watering-place  in  the 
south  of  England,  noted  for  its  scen- 
ery, its  climate,  and  the  sleep-bring- 
ing mission  of  its  air.  The  farm- 
house was  unpretentious,  and  though 
presenting  to  a  town-trained  eye  an 
appearance  of  picturesque  antiquity, 
it  was,  in  fact,  an  extremely  ugly  cot- 
tage of  the  Victorian  era,  made  to 
look  rambling  and  picturesque  by 
means  of  the  numerous  rooms,  store- 
cupboards,  and  outhouses  added  to  it 
during  Battle's  own  lifetime.  The 
property,  when  he  'first  came  into 
possession,  had  consisted  of  pasture- 
land,  a  small  orchard,  and.  a  large 
yard.  The  greater  part  of  the  origi- 
nal homestead  (built  about  1700)  had 
been  destroyed  by  fire,  and  Battle's 
father,  acting  on  the  advice  of  a 
young  and  second  wife,  had  com- 
pleted the  work  of  destruction,  by 
building  on  its  ruins  the  aforesaid 
Victorian  cottage.  An  unkind  rumor 
had  it,  that  what  remained  of  the  best 
parlor  of  the  first  Mrs.  Battle  could 


l8       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

now  be  recognized  in  the  most  re- 
tired portion  of  the  dwelling. 

Samuel  Battle,  on  coming  into  his 
inheritance,  was  not  slow  to  show 
himself  a  man  of  singular  energy, 
perseverance,  and  shrewdness ;  he 
was  quick  to  see  that  letting  land  was 
more  profitable  than  tilling  it.  He 
was  also  in  favor  of  small  plots  and 
short  leases — the  advantages  of 
which,  as  he  was  careful  to  point  out 
to  dubious  tenants,  cut  both  ways, 
although  they  might  occasionally  cut 
a  bit  deeper  on  one  side  than  on  the 
other.  An  enigmatic  saying,  which 
time  and  the  increasing  value  of  the 
ground  made  clear. 

His  education,  culled  as  it  was 
from  the  Scriptures,  and  guiltless  of 
School  Board  trimmings,  gave  him 
a  command  of  language,  a  stern 
dignity  and  sterner  refinement,  than 
could  be  found  now  in  younger  men 
of  his  station,  who  too  often  talk  big 
words  from  their  favorite  newspaper, 
mistake  insolence  for  independence, 
and  swagger  for  good  breeding.  Dr. 
Johnson's  saying  that  "  the  Devil 
was  the  first  Whig "  was  the  first 
article  of  Battle's  political  belief,  and 
a  staunch  Nonconformist,  he  so  far 
availed  himself  of  the  right  of  private 
judgment  that  where  his  co-religion- 
ists read  "  Down  with  authority"  he 
only  discovered  exhortations  to 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        19 

obedience.  He  was,  therefore,  a 
Tory,  but  for  no  other  reason  than 
because  he  did  not  see  how  a  pro- 
fessed Christian  could  be  anything 
else.  From  which  it  would  seem 
that  if  Samuel  Battle  did  wrong  he 
did  it  rightly. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write,  the 
inmates  of  the  farmhouse  numbered 
four,  and  were  Battle  himself,  his 
spinster  daughter,  Miss  Caroline,  his 
one  grandchild,  Jane  Shannon,  and  a 
young  boy  named  De  Boys  Mauden, 
who  was  his  nephew  by  marriage — a 
relative  as  distant  as  he  was  poor. 

Jane  was  three  years  younger  than 
De  Boys,  and  when  he  first  came  to 
the  farmhouse,  he  was  seven,  and 
she,  four.  He  was  handsome,  but 
she  was  a  plain  little  creature,  all 
eyes  and  legs,  though  the  eyes  had 
.fire,  and  the  legs  were  shapely. 

The  child,  as  she  grew  up,  was 
taught  to  read  and  write,  to  add 
figures,  to  make  butter  and  jam,  to 
do  plain  sewing,  and  to  work  hideous 
patterns  with  Berlin  wool  on  blue 
canvas.  When  she  was  nine,  she 
was  sent  to  a  day-school,  and  had 
lessons  in  drawing,  French,  and 
music,  and  her  education,  on  the 
whole,  was  no  less  thorough  than 
that  of  many  young  ladies  of  fashion. 
She  could  write,  "  The  gardener's 
wife  has  two  children  "  in  a  foreign 


2O        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

language,  and  she,  too,  in  the  course 
of  time  strummed  Heller's  "  Taren- 
tella,"  the  "  Moonlight  "  sonata,  and 
Chopin's  Valses.  She  played  them 
to  De  Boys  long  before  he  had  learnt 
the  manners  to  listen. 

She  was  brought  up  as  a  Dissenter, 
but  her  father  had  been  a  devout 
Catholic,  and  it  had  been  promised 
that,  when  she  arrived  at  years  of 
discretion,  she  would  be  given  every 
opportunity  to  hear  the  claims  of 
Catholicism.  In  the  meantime,  how- 
ever, no  pains  were  spared  to  warn 
her  against  Antichrist,  the  mother  of 
harlots,  and  idolatry  ;  for  the  wives 
and  daughters  of  the  deacons  thought 
it  a  terrible  sign  of  more  iniquitous 
practices  to  come,  when  it  was  known 
that  she  cherished  her  dead  father's 
rosary  and  crucifix. 

Jane's  instructor  in  the  useful  arts, 
such  as  mending,  darning,  patch- 
work, and  the  like,  was  her  aunt, 
Miss  Caroline.  Miss  Caroline  Battle 
was  what  men  call  a  sensible  woman, 
which  is  a  way  of  saying  that  she 
did  not  attach  too  much  weight  to 
their  smiles,  although  she  could 
always  smile  in  her  turn.  She  was 
comely,  too,  with  soft  brown  eyes 
and  a  pillow-like  figure,  which  coun- 
teracted the  occasional  sharpness 
of  her  tongue.  Miss  Caroline,  like 
happy  Peter  Bell,  beheld  but  did  not 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        21 

speculate  ;  she  tended  her  garden, 
watched  the  stars,  and  read  two 
chapters  of  Scripture  every  night  of 
her  life.  She  kept  hens,  and  ducks, 
and  bees,  and  her  butter  was  the 
pride  of  the  county.  She  possessed 
a  Maltese  lace  shawl,  and  an  illus- 
trated Shakspere,  also  a  set  of 
Whitby  jet  ornaments,  and  an  ame- 
thyst brooch.  These  treasures,  how- 
ever, she  kept  locked  in  her  ward- 
robe because  they  were  heirlooms, 
and  as  such  were  treasured  in  silver 
paper.  For  light  literature  she  gave 
Jane  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress," 
"  Lady  Audley's  Secret,"  "  Amy 
Herbert,"  "Paul  and  Virginia," 
"Roderick  Random,"  "  ^Esop's 
Fables,"  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  and, 
on  Sunday  afternoons  and  anniver- 
saries, Dante's  "  Inferno,"  illustrated 
by  Dore.  The  horrors  of  this  last, 
while  they  struck  misery  to  Jane's 
soul,  were  largely  mitigated  by  the 
story  of  Francesca  da  Rimini,  which, 
Miss  Caroline  thought,  could  only  be 
edifying,  since,  from  all  she  could 
gather,  the  whole  Rimini  family  were 
in  hell,  and  burning  examples  of 
foreign  immorality  and  its  just  reward. 
Why  so  gentle  a  being  as  Caroline 
Battle  should  take  satisfaction,  so 
deep  reaching  that  it  amounted  to 
pleasure,  in  a  tale  which  for  exciting 
pity  and  terror  is  hardly  to  be 


22        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

matched,  can  only  be  accounted  for 
on  the  ground,  that  hell  and  sin,  as 
actualities,  were  so  impossible  to  her 
imagination,  that  she  believed  in  one 
and  disapproved  of  the  other  as 
a  child  swallows  medicine,  and 
"  hates  "  porridge. 

To  Jane,  however,  whose  character 
was  of  a  very  different  cast — for  she 
saw  everything  through  the  rainbow 
haze  of  her  own  moods — the  idea  of 
being  damned  for  love  became  so 
familiar,  and  so  fascinating,  that  to 
love  without  losing  one's  soul  (if  in- 
deed such  a  thing  were  possible), 
seemed  to  her  dull,  spiritless,  monot- 
onous, and  bumpkin-like.  To  marry, 
to  settle,  to  grow  stout,  and  at  the 
last  to  be  "  Jane,  wife  of  the  above, 
aged  74.  Until  the  day  break  and  the 
shadows  flee  away."  Unthinkable 
prospect !  But  to  float  in  the 
air  through  countless  ages — a  sight 
to  inspire  poets  and  make  them 
swoon — that  were  a  destiny  worthy 
the  name  !  She  confided  this  opinion 
to  De  Boys,  who  agreed  that  it  would 
be  fine  to  swim  in  the  winds  ;  but  he 
thought  that  a  girl  hanging  on  his 
neck  would  mar  the  gloriousness  of 
the  excursion.  Such  is  the  brutality 
of  man  at  fourteen. 

Quite  early  De  Boys  had  shown  a 
taste  for  learning,  and  had  dreams 
very  far  removed  from  the  walls, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        2$ 

turnip  fields,  and  potato  beds  of  Up- 
at-Battle's.  He  held  very  pro- 
nounced-views on  literary  style,  and 
wrote  numerous  sermons  in  the  man- 
ner of  Gibbon,  which  Jane  considered 
far  superior  to  anything  achieved  by 
that  historian  himself.  In  gayer 
moments  he  attempted  blank  verse 
(in  the  Miltonic  strain),  and  com- 
posed two  acts  of  a  tragedy — "  Julius 
Caesar  in  Britain  " — in  which  Jane 
declared  that  Julius  Caesar  sounded 
exactly  like  De  Boys,  particularly  in 
a  fine  speech  about  women,  which 
began,  "  Hence,  pampered  minions, 
born  of  pride  and  folly,"  and  ended, 
"  /  scorn  such  soft-mouthed  babblers." 
The  third  act  (still  unwritten)  he  as- 
sured her  would  be  the  most  tremen- 
dous of  the  five. 

His  own  observation,  helped  by 
hints  from  the  neighbors,  had  taught 
him  very  soon  that  he  was  living  on 
charity,  and  a  sense  of  gratitude  to 
the  Battles,  no  less  than  his  own  self- 
pride,  filled  him  with  a  desperate 
ambition  to  be  independent  and 
make  a  name.  His  father  had  been 
that  sad  anomaly,  an  accountant 
with  a  literary  faculty  ;  his  mother 
was  a  poetess,  who  died  in  her  effort 
to  rhyme  "  love  "  with  "drudgery." 
From  both  parents  he  inherited  a 
desire  for  the  vague  and  a  disgust 
for  the  tangible. 


24        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Have  you  no  pride  ?  "  he  said  to 
Jane  one  day,  when  she  had  seemed 
more  amused  than  awed  by  his 
ambitious  ideas. 

"  We  must  beware  of  pride,"  said 
Jane,  who  hoped  she  sounded 
humble. 

"  That  is  the  right  sort  of  pride — 
to  feel  that  you  come  of  honest 
people,  and  must  bring  no  shame  to 
them,"  said  the  boy  hotly.  "  I  am 
not  going  to  be  the  pauper  of  the 
family ! " 

"  But  you  are  a  genius,"  said  Jane. 
"  How  can  you  expect  to  be  rich 
when  you  are  a  genius  ?  I  think  you 
are  very  discontented." 

De  Boys  sighed,  but,  remembering 
her  good  qualities  as  a  fighter,  pitied 
her  weak  sex  and  not  her  poor  spirit. 

Some  months  after  the  foregoing 
conversation,  the  curate  of  the  parish, 
driven  to  his  wits'  end  by  the  increas- 
ing wants  of  an  increasing  family, 
was  inspired  to  offer  young  Mauden 
instruction  in  the  classics,  in  ex- 
change for  Miss  Caroline's  milk  and 
butter.  At  first  she  had  shrunk  from 
this  nefarious  traffic  in  dairy  prod- 
uce and  the  Pagan  authors,  but  no 
sooner  had  her  common  sense  as- 
sured her  that  the  plan  was  hugely 
to  the  lad's  advantage,  than  she  be- 
came as  strongly  convinced  of  its 
innocence  as  she  had  been  of  its 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        25 

impiety.  She  soothed  her  father's 
unreasonable  prejudices,  which  were 
not  in  disfavor  of  learning  as 
learning,  but  of  the  time  wasted  in 
its  acquisition.  If,  as  she  pointed 
out,  De  Boys  worked  at  his  books 
when  the  rest  of  the  family  were 
sleeping,  and  if  the  curate  had  no 
better  equivalent  than  Latin  and 
Greek  to  offer  in  exchange  for  food, 
and  if  he  was  too  proud  to  accept  it 
as  a  gift Her  opening  state- 
ment alone  occupied  forty-five  min- 
utes. Battle,  who  had  set  his  face 
against  De  Boys  '"  poking  out  his 
eyes  wi'  night  work,"  and  could  find 
no  words  to  express  his  mean 
opinion  of  the  dead  languages  as 
weighed  against  fresh  butter,  relented 
at  the  first  harrowing  picture  con- 
jured up  to  his  imagination  by  Miss 
Caroline's  ingenious  hints  of  the 
curate's  half-fed  family.  Her  last 
mournful  prophecy  that  the  unhappy 
man's  two  girls  would  die  of  con- 
sumption before  the  year  was  out, 
and  the  baby  have  "  rickets,"  was  so 
soul-piercing  that  the  worthy  farmer 
not  only  gave  his  consent  to  the 
bargain  in  debate,  but  even  ad- 
mitted that  the  curate  might  not  be 
a  prophet  in  sheep's  clothing  of  the 
type  we  are  so  expressly  warned 
against  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount. 


26       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

De  Boys,  whose  burrs  of  knowl- 
edge, picked  up  in  the  Town  Library, 
and  in  the  local  "Academy  for 
Young  Gentlemen,"  had  only  served 
to  tease  alike  his  intellect  and  his 
spirit,  saw  a  special  Providence  in 
the  tutor,  who  was  thus  dropped,  as 
it  were,  from  heaven  for  his  guid- 
ance. He  hardly  knew  whither  his 
thoughts  and  plans  were  leading 
him  ;  the  something  ahead  was  so 
vague  in  outline,  and  so  far  away, 
that  though  he  daily  approached  it 
nearer,  it  only  seemed  part  of  the 
general  distance,  the  bit  of  high 
mountain  beyond  many  mountains, 
many  roads  and  valleys.  For  the 
present  he  only  knew  he  must  work — 
work  early  and  late,  never  despair- 
ing* yet  never  hoping  too  high — 
striving  to  do  his  best,  but  leaving  it 
for  others  to  say  how  good  that  best 
might  be.  Had  he  a  talent,  and 
was  it  the  one  he  most  coveted  in 
the  world  ?  Would  he  ever  be  a 
scholar  ?  At  last  one  day,  between 
blushes  and  stammers,  he  asked  his 
tutor  whether — after  thirty  years  or 
so  of  close  application — he  would 
know  something.  The  Rev.  Fitz- 
Ormond  O'Nelligan  was  one  of  those 
rare  men,  who,  void  of  personal 
pretensions,  are  big  with  ambition 
for  their  friends.  He  slapped  his 
pupil  on  the  back  with  such  force 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        2J 

that  had  De  Boys  been  a  student  of 
the  weakling  order,  his  earthly 
career  would  have  ended  on  the 
spot. 

"You  will  be  the  foinest  Grecian 
in  England,"  he  said — "  that  is  to 
say,  if  ye'll  only  be  patient.  At  the 
Universities  now,  the  cry  is  all  for 
mere  lads,  and  a  text  which  Bentlee 
would  have  approached  with  awe 
and  riverince,  and  given  the  best 
years  of  his  loife  too,  is  no,w  cobbled 
up  by  any  schoolboy  in  six  weeks  or 
less.  Avoid  all  such  immoralitee. 
Fasten  your  oies  on  the  gloreeous 
examples  of  the  past,  and  if  you  are 
not  noticed  by  this  generation,  there 
will  be  some  roise  up  in  the  future, 
who  will  call  your  memoree  blessed." 

"  What  for  ? "  said  De  Boys,  who 
had  fortunately  mastered  the  art  of 
grinning  inside. 

"  For  being  the  one  scholar,"  said 
O'Nelligan  solemnly,  "who  had  the 
humanitee  to  keep  his  wisdom  out  of 
print,  and  who  did  not  regard  the 
great  masterpieces  of  antiquitee  as 
so  many  door-posts  for  every  dog 
to  defile.  The  simile  is  used  by 
Erasmus." 

This  encouragement,  delivered  in 
O'Nelligan's  most  impressive  manner 
(impossible  to  describe,  and  only  to 
be  imagined  by  those  who  may  have 
encountered  an  Irishman  with  the 


28       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

blood  of  two  kings,  eighteen  earls, 
and  a  Christian  martyr  in  his  veins), 
gave  De  Boys  the  self  confidence 
which  he  was  too  modest  to  assume 
on  his  own  warrant.  It  must  be 
owned,  however,  that  his  tutor's 
instruction  was,  though  solid,  exces- 
sively dull.  The  one  consuming 
passion  of  O'Nelligan's  life  was 
grammar,  and  for  his  pupil's  leisure 
moments  he  had  invented  a  game  on 
Comparative  Syntax,  which,  in  his 
judgment,  transcended  chess  and 
threw  whist  on  its  death-bed. 
Mauden  felt,  therefore,  to  his  own 
dismay,  a  something  not  wholly  un- 
like relief  when,  after  three  years  of 
hard  reading,  the  excellent  man  con- 
fessed that  he  had  taught  him  what 
he  could,  and  that  the  time  was  now 
come  for  him  to  show  his  mettle  at 
the  University.  De  Boys  rushed 
home,  and  with  characteristic  im- 
petuosity blurted  out  at  the  dinner- 
table  that  he  was  going  to  Oxford. 

"  What  time  do  you  start  ?  "  said 
the  gentle  Miss  Caroline,  who  won- 
dered whether  his  journey  could  have 
anything  to  do  with  the  cow. 

"  To  Oxford  ? "  thundered  his 
uncle.  "To  Oxford!  This  comes 
of  listening  to  a  curate's  great  swell- 
ing words  of  vanity.  You  know  what 
the  Apostle  Paul  saith,  that  those 
who  seemed  to  be  somewhat,  in  con- 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       29 

ference  added  nothing  to  him.  Take 
heed  by  his  experience.  To  Oxford! 
And  what  will  you  find  there  ?  The 
lust  of  the  eye,  the  pride  of  life,  and 
the  vain  pursuit  of  vainer  knowl- 
edge. The  wise  using  their  wisdom 
to  confound  the  weak,  working,  not 
to  the  glory  of  God,  but  for  the 
amazement  of  the  sinner  ;  each  man 
a  law  unto  himself,  and  all  in  conflict 
with  the  powers  that  be.  Let  me 
hear  no  more  blether  about  Oxford!  " 
Having  finished  his  harangue, 
which  he  had  delivered  with  such 
fluency  that  Miss  Caroline  suspected 
it  had  long  been  prepared  for  some 
such  crisis,  he  left  the  room.  De 
Boys,  a  little  pale  but  not  less  deter- 
mined in  expression,  went  about  his 
usual  afternoon  employment,  which, 
since  it  had  all  to  do  with  the  farm, 
made  it  seem  as  though  "  Up-at-Bat- 
tle's  "  were,  after  all,  the  one  reality 
in  life,  and  his  dream  of  a  University 
career,  a  dream  indeed,  nay  more,  the 
very  town  of  Oxford  a  figment  of  his 
imagination.  At  tea-time  he  did 
not  feel  hungry  ;  he  walked  instead 
to  his  favorite  peak  on  the  cliff,  and 
sat  there,  gazing  gloomily  at  the 
dancing  sea.  He  was  roused  by  a 
tap  on  his  shoulder ;  he  turned  and 
saw  Jane. 


WHICH 


CHAPTER  II. 

CONTAINS      SOME 
VANITY. 


SERIOUS 


,ANE  had  started  from 
home  with  her  hair  in  a 
plait,  but  the  wind,  her 
quick  walking,  and  her 
natural  impatience  of  re- 
straint had  shaken  it  free, 
and  it  now  hung,  neither  curled  nor 
crimped,  yet  far  from  straight,  in  one 
lively,  glimmering  mass  below  her 
waist.  Her  gown  was  of  white 
cotton,  and  was  so  clean  that  it  still 
smelt  of  the  ironing-board,  and  so 
outgrown  that  it  did  not  reach  her 
ankles  by  an  inch — perhaps  more. 
The  ankles,  however,  were  innocent, 
and  did  not  fear  the  light  of  day. 
A  wide-brimmed  hat  concealed  the 
upper  part  of  her  face,  and  only  left 
visible  the  tip  of  a  lift-upward  nose, 
a  round  chin,  and  a  finely  cut,  but 
still  childish  mouth.  Her  cheeks 
and  throat,  though  delicate  in  grain, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        31 

were  well  browned,  and  while  by  no 
means  rustic  in  mien,  she  looked 
what  indeed  she  was — a  daughter  of 
the  sun  and  rain.  Jane  was  not 
beautiful  ;  or  rather,  there  was  too 
much  strangeness  in  her  beauty  to 
make  her  seem  so  at  first  sight  : 
reddish  hair  and  a  dusky  face  make 
an  odd  combination.  There  was  an 
atmosphere  of  strength  and  sweet- 
ness about  her  which  swept  over  the 
heart-sick  De  Boys  like  a  mountain 
breeze  ;  he  drew  a  long  breath,  and 
wondered  at  the  change  in  the 
weather. 

"  It  is  time  to  go  home,"  he  said. 
She  swallowed  her  mortification  ; 
she  had  sought  him  in  order  to  offer 
her  sympathy. 

"  Why  don't  you  go,  then  ?  "  she 
said,  as  promptly. 

He  made  several  thrusts  at  the 
meek  earth  with  his  heavy  walking- 
stick.  "  You  know,"  he  said,  "  your 
grandfather  does  not  like  you  to  be 
out  late." 

"  I  can  fight  my  own  battles,"  said 
Jane,  tossing  her  head. 

De  Boys  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  tried  to  frown  down  his  rising 
color  ;  he  also  turned  on  his  heel 
and  walked  away. 

"  De  Boys,"  she  said,  pursuing — 
"  De  Boys,  I  suppose  you  think  I 
am  a  cat  !  " 


32        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  I  hate  cats,"  he   said  evasively. 

"  Do  you  hate  me  ?  " 

The  pause  which  followed  seemed 
borrowed  from  eternity. 

"  I  could  hate  you,"  he  said  ;  "  but 
as  it  happens,  I  do  not." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  ugly  ?  All 
the  girls'  say  I  am  a  fright !  "  Her 
smile  had  a  crook  at  each  end  :  one 
signified  amusement,  the  other  con- 
tempt. 

"  I  have  never  thought  about  your 
looks,"  said  De  Boys,  with  more 
honesty  than  discretion.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  are  all  right.  But  in  any 
case  I  would  never  call  you  hideous!" 

Jane  had  a  longing  to  be  thought 
pretty.  Her  ideal  was  the  sweet 
portrait  of  a  young  lady  (on  porce- 
lain) which  hung  in  a  photographer's 
window  she  knew  of,  and  which 
represented  a  divine  creature  with 
blue  eyes,  pink  cheeks,  and  blonde 
hair,  waved,  and  parted  Madonna- 
wise.  If  she  might  only  look  like 
that  !  She  had  a  fatal  admiration 
for  the  conventional  type  angelic, 
being  neither  old  enough  nor  experi- 
enced enough  to  know  that  holiness 
occasionally  treads  the  human 
countenance  on  crow's  feet: 

"  How  do  you  like  me  best  ?  "  she 
said.  "  This  way  "  (she  showed  her 
profile),  "  or  that  way  ? "  (She  looked 
him  straight  in  the  face.) 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       33 

He  gazed.  "  Are  your  eyes  blue 
or  brown  ? "  he  said  ;  "  in  some 
lights  they  are  brown,  but  that  may 
be  the  effect  of  your  lashes." 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  "they  are  blue." 

"  They  remind  me  of  purple 
heather,"  said  De  Boys,  with  a  cer- 
tain dreaminess. 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  said  Jane, 
blushing. 

"  And  your  mouth,"  he  went  on, 
warming  to  the  subject,  "  is "  t 

"  My  mouth  is  a  straight  line," 
she  said  sharply.  "  And  now  we 
must  make  haste  !  "  She  started 
ahead  and  began  to  hum.  The  first 
strains  were  a  reminiscence  of 
"  Pleasant  are  Thy  courts  below," 
but,  as  the  melody  swelled,  it  found 
words  which  were  De  Boys'  own,  and 
which  were  these  : 

"  Love  is  a  bubble, 
Love  is  a  trouble, 
Love  is  a  sigh, 

And  love  is  a  grin. 
Love  is  sweet  honey, 
Love  is  cqld  money, 
Love  is  a  lie, 

And  love  is  a  sin. 

"  Love  is  a  jig — 

So  tread  you  a  measure  ; 
Love  is  a  dirge — 

So  fill  you  with  grief  ; 
Love  is  bright  wine — 

To  quicken  your  pleasure  ; 
Love's  the  North  Wind — 

And  Man  the  dead  leaf." 


34       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

This  effusion  had  been  rejected 
by  the  editor  of  the  Brentmore,  Had- 
dington,  and  Mertford  Express  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  "  too  reckless  "  ; 
but  Jane  thought  it  extremely  fine. 
Once,  and  only  once  in  the  course  of 
her  singing,  she  stole  a  glance  at  her 
companion. 

De  Boys  was  tall  and  straight,  of 
careless  but  not  awkward  bearing. 
In  countenance  he  looked  like  a 
,  cherub  who  had  talked  long  hours 
with  Puck — his  expression  was  at 
once  so  subtle,  so  artless,  and  so  dis- 
creet. A  chuckle  lurked  in  the  deep 
recesses  of  his  eye,  but  the  imp  rarely 
ventured  to  the  surface.  His  nose  had 
an  eager  and  inquiring  air,  as  though 
it  were  ever  scenting  for  an  undis- 
covered country ;  his  beardless  lips 
were  pliant,  and  told  his  kind,  pleas- 
ure-loving, and  generous  disposition. 

He  was  the  first  to  make  a  remark. 
"  I  have  been  thinking,"  he  said, 
"  what  your  mouth  is  like,"  he 
blushed — "  it  is  like  a  kiss  made 
incarnate." 

"  I  hate  kissing,"  said  Jane  hur- 
riedly. "  I  was  not  born  under  a 
kissing  star.  Kissing  is  silly." 

"  I  fear  it  is,"  sighed  De  Boys. 

"There  is  nothing  to  fear,"  said 
Jane.  "  But  what  does  it  mean,  or 
what  is  the  use  of  doing  things  which 
mean  so  little  ?" 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        35 

"  I  think,"  said  De  Boys,  trying  to 
look  unprejudiced,  "  kissing  might 
mean  a  great  deal  if — if  the  people 
cared  for  each  other." 

y  Have  you  ever  kissed  anyone, 
and  meant  a  great  deal  ?"  said  Jane, 
with  anxiety. 

De  Boys  glanced  up  at  the  sky. 

"  The  clouds  are  brooding,"  he 
said.  "  !•  would  not  wonder  if  it 
rained.  No,  it  is  not  my  custom  to 
kiss  women.  I  hate  it  quite  as  much 
as  you  do." 

She  seemed  skeptical.  "  Ah,"  she 
said,  "  but  men  are  different." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? "  he  said 
quickly. 

"  I  cannot  say  how  I  know  it," 
she  answered,  "  because  I  must  have 
known  it  ever  since  I  was  born." 

"  Let  us  talk  of  something  else," 
said  De  Boys. 

"  You  began  this.  Kisses  and  all 
such  nonsense  never  come  into  my 
head.  I — I  always  skip  the  love- 
making  in  novels."  She  uttered  this 
astonishing  falsehood  with  cloudless 
eyes. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  De  Boys. 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  oh  '  ?  I  suppose 
you  don't  believe  me.  I  do  not 
care  ;  if  you  wish  to  quarrel,  quarrel. 
1  will  not  say  another  word."  She 
turned  away  her  head,  but  De  Boys 
heard  the  tears  in  her  voice. 


36       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Jane,"  he  said,  "  I  told  you  a 
lie  just  now.  I  once  kissed  Lizzie 
Cass,  but  it  was  very  long  ago." 

"  When  ?  "  said  Jane. 

"  At  the  hay-making.  She  stood 
in  my  way,  and,  somehow — well, 
you  know  how  these  things  hap- 
pen ? " 

"  No,  I  don't  !  "  she  said,  with 
indignation. 

"  She  isn't  at  all  pretty  ;  and  it 
was  only  her  ear  !  Your  ears  are 
like  pink  shells.  But,  unhappily, 
they  never  get  in  the  way." 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  said  Jane  ; 
"  I  want  no  kisses  spared  from  Lizzie 
Casses  !  " 

"  Then,  if  I  had  not " 

"  But  you  have,"  she  said,  "  and 
that  ends  it." 

"  It  was  months  ago,"  murmured 
De  Boys,  "  and  I  have  changed  since 
then.  Life  looks  differently." 

"  After  all,"  said  Jane,  "  you  were 
very  honest  to  own  it.  But  as  for 
Lizzie  Cass,  I  always  said  she  was  a 
bold  minx.  She  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  herself  !  " 

"  Undoubtedly  I  was  to  blame.  I 
ought  not  to  have  done  it.  I  should 
have  had  more  self-respect." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Jane,  "it  is  a 
girl's  part  to  behave  herself.  But 
whenever  there  is  kissing,  either  at 
the  hay-making  or  at  any  other  time, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       37 

I  have  noticed  that  it  is  always 
some  girl  who  starts  it." 

"  That,"  said  De  Boys,  "  may  be 
true.  But  you  are  not  like  other 
girls." 

"  De  Boys,"  she  said,  faintly  ; 
"  please  don't  think  I  am  better  than 
I  am.  I  deceived  you  just  now  ;  I 
did  not  mean " 

His  face  grew  hard,  his  voice  cold, 
his  eye  was  dismayed.  "  Do  you 
mean,"  he  said,  "  that  you  have  told 
me  a  lie  !  What  was  it  about  ?  " 

"  Oh,  forgive  me,"  she  said,  half 
crying  ;  "  I  cannot  think  what  made 
me  say  it.  But  it  was  not  the  truth 
— I  do  not  always  skip  the  love- 
making  in  novels." 

He  stalked  on  with  darkened 
brows. 

"  You  lied  to  me,"  he  said  ;  "  it  is 
the  principle  I  am  thinking  of.  I 
never  thought  you  could  lie — even 
for  a  good  purpose." 

Jane  put  her  lips  together.  "  It 
was  a  little  one,"  she  murmured. 

"  Ah,  but  now  I  know  you  are  at 
least  capable  of  deceiving  me  ;  how 
can  I  ever  trust  you  so  absolutely 
again  ?  "  His  voice  had  a  mournful 
cadence. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  ;  "but — 
look  at  me." 

To  look  at  her  were  fata!,  and  he 
knew  it.  He  stared  undaunted  and 


V 

y 


38       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

with  resolution  straight  in  front  of 
him. 

"  Look  at  me  !  "  she  entreated. 

"Why?" 

"  I  want  to  see  whether  you  are 
so  angry  as  you  sound." 

"  Angry  is  not  the  word,"  he  said, 
•"  but  grieved  and  disappointed.  You 
were  my  Ideal." 

She  began  to  cry.  "  If  you  had 
told  me  I  was  your  Ideal,"  she  said, 
,"  I  would  have  been  more  careful. 
It  is  so  much  easier  to  be  ideal  when 
you  know  that  someone  appreciates 
ou." 

Jane  had  not  yet  grasped  the 
truth,  that  man  is  a  spectacle  for 
angels,  and  that  he  can  carry  his 
heroism,  his  noble  sentiments,  and 
his  virtue  into  a  wilderness,  and  still 
not  feel  that  he  is  being  heroic  and 
sublime  for  nothing — a  suspicion, 
however,  which  will  assail  him  for 
more  causes  than  he  would  care  to 
count,  if  he  look  for  mortal  appraise- 
ment only.  But  love  is  two-headed 
egoism,  and  to  Jane  the  Ideal  meant 
De  Boys'  ideas. 

She  continued  :  "  I  do  not  want 
you  to  think  me  perfect  ;  because  I 
am  not,  and  I  could  not  be,  even  to 
please  you.  I  am  just  like  other 
girls." 

"Well,"  said  De  Boys,  at  length, 
"  perhaps  I  ought  to  be  glad  of  any- 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        39 

thing  that  makes  you  more  like  me — 
that  puts  you  nearer  my  level." 

Jane  looked  troubled  ;  she  was 
beginning  to  realize,  though  dimly, 
the  responsibilities  of  an  Ideal. 

*"  De  Boys,"  she  said,  "  did  you 
ever  think  that  I  was  better  than 
yourself?"  .  • 

"  Better  !  It  was  not  a  question 
of  comparison  at  all." 

"  And  now,"  said  Jane — "  what  do 
you  think  now? " 

He  hesitated.  "And  now?"  she 
asked  again.  They  had  reached  a 
gate  which  led  into  a  kind  of  shrub- 
bery. As  she  passed  through,  her 
skirt  caught  on  one  of  the  spikes. 
He  was  awkward  and  slow  at  releas- 
ing her,  and  when  they  started  to 
walk  again,  he  lagged  behind. 

'  Are  you  tired  ?  "  said  Jane. 

'  No." 

'Are  you  angry?"' 

'  Yes." 

'  Very  well ;  then  we  are  not 
friends.  But  I  would  rather  be  so 
than  have  deceit  between  us.  And 
you  may  as  well  know  the  worst  of 
me  at  once.  I  am  much  plainer  in 
the  face  than  you  think.  Take  a 
good  look  at  me  this  way." 

She  pulled  off  her  hat,  tugged 
back  her  magnificent  hair,  and  in  her 
anxiety  to  appear  at  her  worst,  all 
but  made  a  grimace.  De  Boys  did 


40        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

not  seem  so  repelled  as  she  had 
expected. 

"  Take  a  good  look,"  she  repeated, 
faintly.  "  I  shall  never  have  the 
courage  to  do  this  again." 

"  I  am  angry,"  he  said,  looking, 
"because  I  hate  myself  and  because 
you  are  still  as  far  above  me  as " 

She  advanced  a  step  toward  him. 
"  I  am  not  above  you,  De  Boys,"  she 
said,  "  I  am  here." 

He  needed  no  second  reminder, 
but  with  the  agility  of  a  practiced 
lover,  caught  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her  at  random,  and  with  an 
ardor  which,  though  wholly  beyond 
the  measure  of  her  own  childish 
affection,  filled  her  with  nameless 
fear. 

"There!"  he  said;  "but  don't 
ask  me  to  look  at  you  again.  That's 
kissing." 

Jane  fixed  her  eyes  on  his  with 
something  like  reproach.  "  I  was 
happier  before,"  she  said  ;  "  much 
happier.  I  almost  wish  you  had 
not." 

"  But  I  love  you,"  said  De  Boys. 

"  Still,"  said  Jane,  "  I  wish  you 
had  not.  I  shall  remember  it." 

"  So  shall  I,"  said  De  Boys. 

"  But  I  only  want  to  remember 
that  I  love  you,"  said  Jane  ;  "  and  I 
want  to  remember  it  without  dis- 
tractions, and  without  kisses,  which, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       41 

after  all,  may  only  mean  that  I  am 
standing  in  your  way." 

"  Dearest  !  " 

"  Yet  I  am  glad,"  she  went  on — 
"  I  am  glad  God  made  me  a  woman." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  That  you  might  love  me." 

Once  more  a  spell  was  in  the  air, 
but  this  time  she  had  experience. 

"  Come,"  she  said  quickly,  "  we 
shall  be  late,  and  the  geese  will  want 
their  supper." 

Even  thus  does  prose  trample  on 
the  skirts  of  passion.  They  hurried 
on  into  the  gathering  twilight,  on 
and  on.  At  the  hill  they  joined 
hands  and  ran,  kicking,  in  imagina- 
tion, the  world  (of  their  imagination), 
in  front  of  them  as  they  went. 


CHAPTER   III. 

TOUCHING       THE     MASCULINE      CON- 
SCIENCE  AND  THE  FEMININE  REASON. 

'ARMER  BATTLE,  mean- 

while,  had  retired  to  the 
solitude  of  his  own 
chamber,  to  review  a 
domestic  situation,  which, 
as  Miss  Caroline  had 
rightly  guessed,  he  had  foreseen, 
and  to  some  extent  prepared  for. 
It  may  be,  however,  that  he  had 
overlooked  the  serious  difficulties 
of  the  case,  in  the  seemly  joy  of 
composing  a  speech  which  would 
crush  it ;  at  all  events,  he  saw  plainly 
enough  now,  that  the  trouble,  so  far 
from  being  ended,  had  only  begun. 
The  outlook  perplexed,  worried,  and 
distressed  him  more  than  his  dignity 
was  willing,  but  as  his  nerves  soon 
forced  him,  to  admit.  His  first  act, 
therefore,  on  reaching  his  room  was 
to  pour  out  and  swallow  a  large  dose 
of  a  noxious  preparation  known  as 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       43 

Gump's  Elixir,  and,  as  he  was  able 
to  gulp  this  down  with  comparatively 
few  qualms,  it  assured  him  that  his 
system  could  still  endure  the  most 
extraordinary  and  violent  shocks 
without  surrender. 

But  though  he  could  recall  the 
physical  man  to  duty,  his  mind 
remained  in  rebellion,  and  he  sat 
down,  with  his  body  forward,  his 
arms  resting  on  his  knees,  and  his 
hands  clasped,  the  picture  of  doubt 
and  embarrassment.  He  was  a  man 
of  governed  but  primitive  emotions, 
and  knew  nothing  of  the  thousand- 
and-one  complications  and  com- 
binations which  the  cultured  mind 
can  make  out  of  one  rough  passion 
chopped  into  polished  fragments. 
His  love  was  love,  and  his  hate  was 
hate,  and  his  rage  was  rage  ;  to 
excite  either  one  was  like  pulling 
out  the  stop  of  an  organ. 

Like  most  proud  men  he  was 
extremely  sensitive,  and  he  had  been 
quick  to  notice  his  nephew's  want 
of  interest  in  farm  matters  and  the 
comfortable  home — the  home  which 
Battle  himself  had  spent  his  days  in 
making,  and  which  was  the  crown  of 
his  earthly  labors.  The  old  man  did 
not  desire — nor  indeed  could  he  con- 
ceive— a  greater  happiness  than  to 
stand  in  his  porch,  and  see  the  smoke 
rising  from  his  tenants' chimney-pots, 


44       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

to  gaze  at  the  fine  barn  (once  a 
miserable  cowshed),  at  the  dairy, 
and  at  the  model  hen-house  built 
after  his  own  design,  with  a  patent 
door  !  Every  twig  and  every  stone 
on  the  estate  had  its  value  and 
association  for  him  ;  every  inch  of 
the  ground  knew  his  tread  ;  every 
corner,  nook,  and  cranny  stood  for 
something  in  the  sum  of  his  experi- 
ence. But  De  Boys  could  sit  oppo- 
site the  barn  with  his  nose  in  a  book  ; 
he  accepted  the  dairy  as  a  matter  of 
course  ;  he  talked  of  crops  and  prize 
bullocks  as  though  land  which  did 
not  yield  crops,  and  bullocks  which 
did  not  win  prizes,  were  things  un- 
heard of  ;  he  ate  his  good  fare  and 
slept  between  linen  sheets,  not  with 
gratitude,  but  as  though  he  would 
have  been  very  scurvily  treated  if  he 
did  not  have  such  luxuries. 

All  this  was  a  never  failing  source 
of  bitterness  to  the  old  man  ;  what 
he  gave  he  gave  liberally ;  he  only 
asked,  when  his  gifts  were  accepted 
so  freely,  that  he  should  be  remem- 
bered with  like  readiness  as  the  giver. 
There  was  certainly  nothing  un- 
reasonable in  this  desire  ;  it  was  a 
very  natural  craving  for  some  recog- 
nition of  the  toil  and  endeavor,  the 
heart-aches  and  struggles  which  had 
gone  to  the  making  of  hi*s — as  it 
must  to  every  man's — success.  The 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       45 

race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  bat- 
tle to  the  strong,  and  if  it  is  the  weak 
and  the  slow  who  win,  how  is  it  done 
save  by  the  most  painful  efforts,  the 
sternest  self  discipline,  the  most 
dogged  courage,  and  the  most  touch- 
ing patience  ?  Battle,  unable  to 
analyze  his  feelings,  was  only  con- 
scious that  he  had  fought  a  hard 
fight  for  sixty  odd  years,  was  still 
fighting,  and  not  one  member  of  his 
family  showed,  nor  ever  had  shown, 
the  smallest  knowledge  of  it.  The 
women  he  forgave,  for  two  (his  wife 
and  his  eldest  daughter)  were  dead, 
one  was  a  careful  housewife,  and  the 
other,  a  slip  of  a  girl,  but  De  Boys — 
he  could  not  forgive  De  Boys.  That 
his  experience  was  the  common  one 
of  many  husbands  and  fathers  only 
aggravated  the  wound  ;  he  wished, 
in  a  pardonable  if  foolish  pride,  to 
think  that  his  family  were  altogether 
exceptional,  patterns  of  goodness, 
sobriety,  discretion,  and — quality  so 
necessary  to  domestic  comfort — 
obedience. 

Much,  no  doubt,  was  to  be  said  for 
the  farmer,  but  De  Boys  was  not 
without  defense.  He  had  appeared 
on  the  scene  when  things  were  pros- 
perous, and  he  was  still  an  un- 
traveled  youth  of  twenty  ;  he  was 
therefore  quite  unable  to  contrast  the 
old  farm  with  the  new,  or  properly 


46       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

estimate  a  force  of  character  which 
he  could  only  know  to  be  uncommon, 
by  mixing  with  the  world.  In  De 
Boys'  green  judgment  all  elderly 
relatives  were  severe,  a  shade  des- 
potic, and  a  little  too  religious  ;  all 
women  mended  socks,  made  incom- 
parable pies,  and  scolded  incessantly; 
all  girls  spent  too  much  time  titivat- 
ing, were  feeble  in  argument,  yet 
pleasing  enough  in  their  way.  These 
opinions  he  expressed  with  much 
confidence,  and,  boy-like,  was  so 
proud  of  his  power  of  criticism,  that 
he  forgot  he  was  directing  it  against 
the  beings  he  loved  best  in  the  world. 
Boy-like,  too,  he  was  not  only  very 
shy  of  showing  his  affection,  but  he 
did  not  even  know  that  he  had  it. 
Healthy  minded  lads  do  not  sit 
brooding  over  their  instincts  till  they 
are  hatched  into  Christian  virtues 
and  deadly  sins  ;  their  conscience 
warns  them  which  to  follow  and 
which  to  shun,  but  the  why,  the 
wherefore,  and  the  psychological 
meaning  of  it  all  does  not  trouble 
them  in  the  least.  Thus,  while  De 
Boys  would  have  defended  his  uncle 
with  the  last  drop  of  blood  in  his 
body,  he  would  not  have  been  able 
to  say  just  why.  From  this  it  will 
be  seen,  how  far  the  farmer  and  the 
aspiring  scholar  were  from  a  mutuaJ 
understanding. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        47 

Battle's  strongest  impulse,  after 
the  scene  at  the  dinner  table,  was  to 
order  an  immediate  bonfire  of  all  the 
pagan  authors  in  the  house,  and  if  it 
had  been  in  his  power  to  include  the 
curate  among  them,  it  is  not  hard  to 
guess  how  he  would  have  dealt  with 
that  amiable  gentleman.  To  think 
that  De  Boys  should  prefer  the  ex- 
ample of  a  weak-kneed  parson  (who 
could  hardly  keep  his  own  body  and 
soul  together),  before  that  of  his 
lawful  guardian,  whose  flourishing  cir- 
cumstances were  the  best  possible 
proof  of  his  fitness  to  advise  !  Yet 
De  Boys  was  a  clever  lad,  apt  and 
well-spoken  ;  if  he  liked  books  better 
than  the  fields,  he  had  inherited  the 
taste  from  his  pitiable  father.  For  a 
moment  Battle  wavered.  If  he  could 
call  to  mind  one,  even  one,  scholar 
who  was  able  to  show  gumption  at  a 
crisis  and  keep  a  family  in  comfort, 
he  would  let  the  boy  go  his  own  gait. 
He  was  searching  his  experience  for 
such  a  prodigy  when  a  doubt  assailed 
him  ;.was  not  learning  sinful  ?  He 
consulted  the  third  chapter  of  Gen- 
esis and  read  no  further.  Evidently, 
knowledge  was  not  for  man. 

The  farmer's  relief  was  un- 
bounded :  he  could  not  only  make 
a  virtue  of  his  own  ignorance,  but 
stand  opposed  to  his  nephew  on  the 
vantage  -  ground  of  a  great  moral 


48       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

principle.  He  had  a  text — "ye  shall 
not  eat  of  it"  ;  he  could  not  be  held 
responsible  for  the  hard  sayings  of 
Scripture,  his  only  duty  was  to  ex- 
pound, and,  when  necessary,  to 
enforce  them.  His  mind  was  fixed  ; 
he  had  settled  the  matter  forever — 
there  should  be  no  more  weak  relent- 
ing, no  more  teasing  of  conscience. 
He  knelt  down  by  his  bed,  and, 
thanking  God  for  giving  him  light 
on  the  subject,  was  studiously  care- 
ful not  to  ask  Him  for  more ;  he 
even  besought  the  Almighty  to 
restrain  his  eyes  from  wandering  to 
other  texts,  which  might  seem  to 
contradict  the  sound  doctrine  of  the 
one  before  him.  He  wound  up  by 
hinting,  that,  if  the  Almighty  saw  fit 
to  remove  the  Rev.  Fitz  Ormond 
O'Nelligan  to  another  parish — or 
sphere — he  (Samuel  Battle)  could 
only  admire  His  divine  wisdom  and 
clemency.  Strengthened  and  re- 
freshed by  this  prayer,  he  rose  from 
his  knees,  and,  almost  smiling, 
opened  the  door  at  which  Miss 
Caroline  had  been  softly  tapping  for 
some  seconds. 

"Well?"  he  said. 

Miss  Caroline  studied  his  face, 
with  a  half-fearful,  half-imploring 
expression.  She  had  come  to  make 
intercession  for  young  Mauden. 

"I  want  to  say  something  about 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       49 

the  boy,"  she  began.  If  the  circum- 
stances were  ordinary,  her  heart,  at 
all  events,  was  heroic,  and  it  is  the 
heart  which  makes  the  situation. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  be  said," 
said  her  father  sternly  ;  "  leave  him 
to  me.  There  has  been  enough  of 
women's  meddling  as  it  is." 

"  I  have  a  notion,"  she  faltered. 

"  A  notion  !  The  whole  house  is 
swarming  wi'  notions.  A  man  can- 
not sleep  nor  eat  for  them  ;  they 
sour  the  milk  and  turn  his  bread  to 
ashes  ;  they  confront  him  on  his 
threshold  and  break  in  upon  his  con- 
verse with  the  Lord  " — here  he  fixed 
his  iron-gray  eye  on  Miss  Caroline — 
"they  make  his  own  flesh  and  blood 
a  heaviness  and  his  children's  chil- 
dren as  vipers  ! " 

"  The  Lord  forbid  that  a  notion  o* 
mine  should  work  such  mischief  !  " 
said  Miss  Caroline,  drawing  down  her 
lip. 

"  I  have  no  fault  to  find  wi'  you, 
Caroline,"  said  Battle,  in  a  milder 
tone,  "  but  I  do  sa"y  that  you  ha'  pam- 
pered that  boy  till  he's  fit  for  nought, 
but  to  sip  tea  wi'  curates,  and  lose 
his  liver  seeking  after  lost  Niobes  !  " 

He  had  once  overheard  a  brief 
conversation  between  O'Nelligan  and 
Mauden,  in  the  course  of  which  they 
had  referred  to  the  lost  Niobe  of 
^Eschylus.  This  mystery,  Battle  had 


50       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

no  doubt,  was  a  heathen  god  whom 
the  world  was  all  the  richer  for  los- 
ing. "  The  difference,"  he  went  on, 
"  so  far  as  I  can  see  between  a  man 
wi'  notions  and  a  man  without  'em  is 
this — the  man  without  'em  pays  the 
bill!" 

"  I  see  no  harm  in  book-learning," 
said  Miss  Caroline  firmly  ;  "  we  are 
told  to  add  to  faith,  virtue,  and  to 
virtue,  knowledge,  and " 

Her  father  waved  his  hand.  "  Be- 
ware of  twisting  the  Word  of  God," 
he  said  hurriedly  ;  "  there's  no  tell- 
ing what  mischief  may  come  of  perk- 
ing up  on  a  false  meaning.  I  don't 
hold  wi'  women  quoting  texts,"  he 
added,  "  and  I  doubt  the  wisdom  of 
dragging  Scripture  in  by  the  ears 
whether  it  will  or  no.  Ten  to  one  if 
it  don't  bite  you  for  your  pains  !  " 

"  Aye  !  "  said  Miss  Caroline,  "and 
for  that  reason  ministers  should 
have  learning."  She  drew  a  long 
breath  and  flushed.  "  Why  shouldn't 
De  Boys  be  a  minister  ?  " 

Battle  plunged  *into  thought.  He 
never,  in  his  own  phrase,  "  fooled 
round  the  edge  of  an  idea." 

"A  minister!"  he  said  at  last. 
"  What  sort  of  a  minister  ?  If  De 
Boys  is  the  kind  to  be  yanked  about 
by  deacons,  he  hasn't  much  of  the 
Battle  stock  in  him  !  " 

"There's    room    for   all    in    the 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        51 

Church  of  England,"  said  Miss 
Caroline.  "  A  doctrine  or  two 
needn't  stand  in  a  man's  way. 
What's  doctrine  ?  Why  should  De 
Boys  call  himself  a  Dissenter  and 
spoil  his  chances,  poor  lad,  when  he 
might  just  as  well  be  Broad  and  hold 
his  own  wi'  the  best  ?  When  folks 
begin  to  quarrel  about  doctrine  they 
are  really  spearin"  at  politics.  Any 
fool  knows  thai !  " 

"  I  will  think  it  over,"  said  Battle  ; 
"but  I  could  never  see  bone  of  my 
bone  picked  bare  by  deacons.  When- 
ever I  see  a  deacon  I  always  think 
of  the  roaring  lion  seeking  whom  he 
can  devour.  Look  at  Hoadley — a 
pleasant  enough  man  till  they  made 
him  senior  deacon.  There's  very 
few  men,  Caroline,  that  can  bear 
authority  if  they  haven't  been  born 
with  the  shoulders  for  it.  If  you 
gave  a  man  a  nose  who  had  never 
had  one,  he  would  be  blowing  it  all 
day.  If  De  Boys  can  see  his  way  to 
do  without  deacons — well,  I  will 
think  it  over." 

Miss  Caroline  went  downstairs, 
scolded  the  dairymaid  on  general 
grounds,  called  Jane  to  task  for  tear- 
ing her  frock  the  Sunday  before, 
hinted  of  dead  parents  turning  in 
their  grave,  made  a  pudding  with  as 
little  sugar  as  possible,  and  finally 
withdrew  to  her  own  room,  where 


52        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

she  indulged  in  a  good  cry.  Hero- 
ism has  a  reaction. 

Battle,  however,  had  been  so 
fascinated  by  the  idea  of  De  Boys 
entering  the  Church  and  "  coming 
the  rectory "  on  his  own  account, 
that  when  his  daughter  had  left  him, 
he  once  more  opened  his  Bible  and 
found  his  thumb  on  the  following 
sentence  in  Isaiah — "  Their  strength 
is  to  sit  still" 

"  The  Lord's  will  be  done,"  he 
murmured.  "  It  is  not  for  me  to 
thwart  the  working  of  the  Spirit. 
If  the  boy's  call  is  to  the  ministry, 
he  must  obey  it !  " 

It  would  be  tedious  to  recapitu- 
late the  numerous  consultations, 
plans,  and  hopes  of  which  De  Boys 
was  the  object,  not  only  for  days, 
but  for  weeks  following.  At  first  he 
had  been  tempted  to  quarrel  with 
the  profession  so  suddenly  forced 
upon  him  ;  his  religion,  like  the 
religion  of  the  young,  was  an  untried 
force,  and,  as  his  idea  of  God  was 
somehow  associated  with  his  Uncle 
Battle,  it  was  largely  tempered  with 
unutterable  private  opinions.  But 
though  he  had  often  questioned  the 
infallible  justice  of  the  Almighty 
(with  regard  to  fishing  on  Sundays 
and  the  like),  his  faith  was  so  knit  in 
his  bones  that  it  was  more  valuable 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        53 

as  a  ruling  principle  than  any  wider 
creed,  based  on  the  mere  mental 
acceptance  of  doctrinal  truths.  The 
fear  of  God  was  before  his  eyes  ; 
the  prospect,  therefore,  of  becoming 
His  minister  put  no  strain  on  his 
sincerity.  If  it  failed  to  stir  his 
enthusiasm  it  was  because  his  easy- 
going nature  hung  aloof  from  the 
self-denial  and  hard  work  which, 
oddly  enough,  he  conceived  to  be  a 
clergyman's  portion. 

Where  his  books  had  formerly 
been  ordered  aside  for  the  most 
trivial  domestic  duty,  he  was  now 
frowned  at  if  he  ventured  to  look  up 
from  them  ;  if  he  showed  the  smallest 
disposition  to  levity,  the  farmer  would 
remind  him  that  it  was  time  to  put 
away  childish  things  and  reflect  on 
the  dignity  of  his  calling  ;  at  his 
approach  gossip  was  silenced,  and 
Baptismal  Regeneration,  Predestina- 
tion, and  Justification  by  Faith 
became  the  lively  topics  of  conver- 
sation ;  if  he  betrayed  even  the 
mildest  interest  in  "  new  trouserings," 
references  would  be  made  to  Demas, 
who  loved  the  things  of  this  world, 
and  to  the  young  man  who  had  great 
possessions.  He  began  to  see  that  a 
reputation  for  virtue  and  wisdom 
(however  gratifying  to  one's  vanity), 
brings  with  it  pains  and  penalties  so 
various,  so  exquisite,  and  so  inces- 


54       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

sant,  that  Job  himself  would  seem  a 
false  type  of  persecuted  excellence, 
since  he  lived  longer  than  his  plagues. 
De  Boys'  patience,  at  no  time  of 
remarkable  endurance,  would  not 
have  lasted  under  the  petty  but  fret- 
ting annoyances  which  now  formed 
his  daily  lot,  and  which  promised  to 
grow  in  severity  as  he  advanced  in 
grace,  if  his  determination  to  go  to 
Oxford  had  not  been  made  with  a 
firm  resolve  to  suffer  all  things  rather 
than  fail  to  fulfill  it.  When  the  time 
came  to  leave  home,  he  went  with  a 
sigh  of  relief  so  heartfelt,  that  Miss 
Caroline  mistook  it  for  a  sob. 

"  The  plum-cake  is  just  inside  the 
bag,"  she  whispered,  "  but  the  cur- 
rant wine  is  at  the  bottom  of  the 
box.  1  didn't  put  it  on  top  because — 
as  you  are  going  to  be  a  minister — 
it  would  not  look  well  if  the  lid  flew 
open  ! " 

He  heard  no  more,  for  the  driver 
whipped  up  his  horse,  and,  followed 
by  tears,  blessings,  exhortations,  and 
warnings,  he  rode  off  in  the  market 
cart  toward  fame  and  the  railway 
station.  He  was  so  lost  in  fair 
dreams  of  the  future  that  he  did 
not  notice  Jane,  who,  by  running 
across  the  fields  and  jumping  a  few 
ditches,  had  managed  to  reach  a 
certain  tree  which  commanded  a 
fine  view  of  the  high-road.  This 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        55 

she   had  climbed,  and    there  she  sat 
on  a  branch  waiting  for  him  to  pass. 

But  while  he  did  not  see  her  for 
dreaming,  she  could  not  see  him  for 
tears.  Thus  her  long  run,  and  her 
jumps,  and  her  climb  were  for 
nothing. 

De  Boys,  however,  had  wished 
her  farewell  the  night  before,  and 
he  had  felt  the  parting  to  the  best 
of  his  ability.  He  still  felt  it — dear, 
sweet  little  Jane  !  (she  was  tall) — but 
now  other  matters  were  naturally 
foremost  in  his  mind.  Jane,  woman- 
like, utterly  unable  to  understand 
this,  thought  him  very  unloving, 
and  .decided  to  waste  no  more  of 
her  affection  where  it  was  not 
wanted.  She  was  young — but  seven- 
teen in  fact,  impulsive,  willful,  pas- 
sionately fond  of  romances,  but 
singularly  practical  in  her  criticism 
of  life  ;  weeping  for  her  heroines 
as  heroines,  yet  scorning  them  not 
seldom  as  fools,  admiring  the  he- 
roes, yet  finding  much  to  be  said 
for  the  villains,  and  displaying,  for 
her  age,  sex,  and  inexperience,  an 
unusual  desire  for  strict — indeed 
rigorous — justice.  Even  now,  smart- 
ing under  De  Boys'  fancied  indif- 
ference she  blamed  her  own  poverty 
of  attractions,  not  his  callousness, 
which,  since  she  promised — to  the 
seeing  eye — to  be  a  beautiful  woman. 


56        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

was  as  wrong-headed  and  feminine" 
as  it  well  could  be. 

A§  the  days  dragged  on  she  real- 
ized how  much  De  Boys  had  been  to 
her,  how  much  of  her  supposed  inde- 
pendence had  rested  on  his  support, 
how  much  her  courage  had  fed  on 
his  sympathy,  how  everything  in  her 
mind  which  gave  her  the  smallest 
satisfaction  was  not  her  own  at  all, 
but  borrowed  from  him.  And  now 
he  was  gone,  it  seemed  as  though 
the  earth  which  she  trampled  on  as 
a  right,  had  suddenly  slipped  away, 
and  left  her  without  a  footing,  to 
sink,  and  sink,  and  sink,  as  one  does 
in  a  nightmare.  At  first  she  saw  a 
substitute  for  De  Boys  in  a  tow- 
headed  youth  who  sang  in  the  chapel 
choir,  and  she  talked  to  him  of  the 
books  she  read,  as  she  would  to  her 
lover,  only  to  grow  absent-minded, 
however,  and  wake  to  catch  an  un- 
sympathetic and  wandering  eye  ; 
phrases,  jokes,  and  little  words  full 
of  meaning  to  herself  and  De  Boys 
lost  all  their  point  when  exchanged 
with  her  few  friends  in  the  village, 
and  very  soon  she  learnt  the  absolute 
I  dissimilarity  in  minds,  and  how  very 
J  little  except  weakness  one  human 
\  being  has  in  common  with  another. 
\  Jane  had  always  found  such  balm 
for  all  her  small  troubles  in  being 
understood  by  De  Boys,  which 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       57 

-  meant,  no  doubt,  that  he  saw  no 
fault  in  her,  and  made  a  grace  out  of 
every  shortcoming — that  is  to  say, 
where  her  shortcomings  affected 
others..  He  made  nicer  distinctions 
in  her  offenses  against  herself.  But 
in  her  dealings  with  the  world  at  large 
he  always  proved  her  in  the  right, 
even  when  she  knew  herself  in  the 
wrong,  and  thus  when  she  least  agreed 
with  him,  he  was  most  consoling. 
True,  now  he  was  absent,  he  wrote 
to  her,  but  the  letters  were  for  family 
perusal,  and  even  though  "  Do  not 
forget  the  guinea  pig"  stood  for  "  My 
very  dearest,  how  I  long  to  see  you ,"  it 
was  a  flimsy  substitute  for  a  love- 
letter,  her  own,  and  bristling  with 
"  dearests,"  in  plain  English.  Gradu- 
ally restraint  showed  itself  in  her 
replies  ;  the  guinea  pig  untimely 
died,  De  Boys  adopted  a  more 
learned  tone,  Jane  found  him  more 
difficult  to  answer,  she  doubted 
whether  she  loved  him,  and  grew 
pale  at  the  doubt  ;  spent  whole  hours 
trying  to  prove  that  she  was  per- 
fectly happy  without  him  and  whole 
nights  crying  because  she  was  not.  • 

When  she  heard  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  return  home  till  the  end  of 
his  third  term,  she  made  no  com- 
ment, but  brought  her  lips  so  sharply 
together,  that  they  lost  their  look  of 
childish  indecision  for  all  time. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN  WHICH    ONE  LADY  TRIES  NATURE, 
WHILE    TWO    DISCUSS    HUMANITY. 

NE  afternoon,  in  the  fol- 
lowing long  vacation,  a 
lady  was  gathering  honey- 
suckle from  a  hedge  in 
a  field  near  St.  Albans. 
She  wore  a  pink  cambric 
confection,  artfully  relieved  with  old 
Honiton  ;  with  one  hand  she  held 
up  her  skirt  and  discovered  a  most 
elaborate  silk  petticoat ;  on  the 
ground  by  her  side  were  a  lace 
parasol  and  a  pair  of  long  kid  gloves. 
A  hat,  garnished  with  velvet  orchids 
and  silk  dandelions,  shaded  her  face, 
and  was  tied  under  her  chin  with 
pale  green  ribbons  ;  her  hair,  which 
was  black  and  very  abundant,  was 
loosely  caught  up  by  a  silver  comb. 
In  figure  she  was  tall  and  gracious, 
but  one  could  have  wished  that  her 
hips  had  more  of  a  jut  and  her 
shoulders  less  an  air  of  almost  mas- 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        59 

culine  resolution.  She  had  too 
much  distinction  to  be  fashoinable 
and  too  much  style  to  be  stylish ; 
beyond  any  doubt  she  was  a  person- 
age. 

She  had  filled  her  basket  with  the 
flowers  when  her  eyes  fell  on  a  fine 
spray  just  beyond  her  reach.  The 
branch  of  a  tree  hung  over  the 
hedge,  and,  by  supporting  herself  on 
this,  she  thought  it  might  be  possi- 
ble to  clutch  at  the  prize.  She  was 
about  to  spring,  when  she  was 
startled  by  the  sight  of  a  young  man 
running  toward  her  from  the  adjoin- 
ing paddock.  Unobserved,  he  had 
been  watching  her  for  some  indefi- 
nite space  of  time. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  said,  lifting  his 
hat,  "  but  I  fear  you  do  not  see  that 
the  bough  is  broken." 

"  No,"  she  said,  with  a  baffling 
smile,  "  I  only  saw  the  honey- 
suckle !  " 

He  looked  at  her,  knit  his  brows, 
bit  his  lips,  and  then  laughed.  "  So- 
you  only  saw  the  honeysuckle,"  he 
said  ;  "your  point  of  view  is  magni- 
ficent ! "  He  had  not  intended  to 
speak  so  familiarly,  but  she  reminded 
him  so  strangely,  yet  with  so  little 
reason,  of  a  certain  Jane  Shannon 
he  knew  of,  that  he  felt  they  were 
already  well  acquainted.  The  lady, 
however,  unaware  of  her  resemblance 


60       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

to  Jane  Shannon,  gave  him  a  severe 
look. 

"  I  never  thought  I  could  meet 
anyone,"  she  said  ;  "  I  did  not  know 
that  there  was  anyone  in  Whetstone 
to  meet.  Besides,  this  is  not  the 
high-road."  There  was  a  note  of 
haughtiness  in  her  tone,  and  her 
large,  black  eyes  wandered,  appar- 
ently by  chance,  to  a  large  notice 
which  faced  them  both — "  Tres- 
passers iv ill  be  Prosecuted." 

"  I  am  a  stranger  here,"  said  the 
youth,  flushing ;  "  they  told  me  at 
the  station  that  I  could  get  to  The 
Cloisters  by  crossing  these  fields.  I 
saw  you  were  in  danger,  so  I  spoke." 

He  took  off  his  hat  and  turned 
ever  so  slightly  to  go  on.  When  a 
man  is  at  most  pains  to  conceal  his 
admiration  for  a  woman,  he  can  be 
most  sure  that  she  appreciates  his 
struggle  to  her  finger-tips.  The 
lady  instinctively  pushed  back  her 
hat,  and  gave  him  a  longer,  perhaps 
a  kinder,  glance  ;  he  remained. 

She  had  a  face  of  such  spiritual 
liveliness  that  its  merely  natural 
charms  of  feature  and  coloring,  only 
seized  on  second  thoughts.  They 
were  the  thin  veil  over  a  sparkling 
radiance,  which,  whether  it  were  due 
to  virtue,  or  wit,  or  coquetry,  was 
too  dazzling  for  Speculation — aged 
twenty-one  and  a  son  of  Adam. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        6l 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say," 
she  said,  "  that  you  were  on  your 
way  to  The  Cloisters  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied. 

"  Then  you  must  be  De  Boys 
Mauden."  (He  bowed.)  "  I  am 
Sophia  Jenyns." 

"  What  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  the 
new  Lady  Macbeth  ?  " 

"  The  newest,"  she  said  dryly. 
"  You  must  know,"  she  continued, 
wondering  at  Mauden's  extreme 
astonishment,  yet  pleased,  for  she 
could  translate  all  things  into  flat- 
tery— "  you  must  know  that  I  came 
out  to  gather  honeysuckle  this  after- 
noon, because  I  wanted  to  see 
whether  I  would  be  happier  if  I  were 
more  like  the  primitive  woman. 
Everyone  is  talking  about  nature, 
so  I  thought  I  would  try  it.  I  have 
been  so  bored  ;  I  longed  to  be  at 
home  reading  Hardy,  or  St.  Augus- 
tine, or  Hegel,  or  somebody.'' 

"  Do  you  read  Hegel  ?  "  he  said. 

"I  read  everything,"  she  replied, 
"  don't  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said,  and  looked  grate- 
fully at  heaven. 

This  young  lady,  who  was  so  far 
from  philosophy  that  she  tried 
nature,  and  so  far"  from  nature  that 
she  longed  for  philosophy,  chuckled 
and  picked  up  her  flower-basket. 

"You    Oxford    men,"    she    said, 


62        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  are  more  proud  of  what  you  have 
not  read  than  of  what  you  have  read. 
Come,  we  can  walk  to  The  Cloisters 
together.  I  hope  you  like  Lady 
Hyde-Bassett  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  I  should  like  her  better  if  I 
thought  she  had  a  heart  :  no -woman 
with  a  heart  could  have  married  Sir 
Benjamin." 

"Did  you  know  him?"  said 
Sophia. 

"  No,"  said  De  Boys  ;  "  but  every- 
one says  he  was  the  most  disagree- 
able man  in  the  world  ;  so  forbid- 
ding and  curt  and  unapproachable."' 

"I  thought  so  once,"  said  Sophia, 
"  till  one  day,  when  I  was  a  child,  I 
heard  him  talking  to  Lady  Hyde- 
Bassett.  I  suppose  they  thought  I 
was  too  little  to  understand  them. 
They  were  walking  in  the  garden 
and  he  asked  her  whether  she  would 
rather  be  a  pussy  cat  or  a  catty  puss, 
and  she  pinched  his  arm,  and  said 
he  was  a  good  little  thing,  and  it  was 
a  pity  that  some  of  the  old  fossils  he 
knew  could  not  hear  him.  And  he 
said,  very  solemnly,  '  God  forbid  ! ' 
and  she  kissed  his  hand  and  said  he 
was  an  angel,  but  she  wished  he 
would  buy  a  new  hat,  although  he 
could  only  look  lovely  if  he  wore 
pajamas  and  a  billy-cock  !  And  he 
said,  '  For  God's  sake,  don't  talk  so 
loud  ! '  and  she  said,  '  Let  us  both 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       63 

say,  Damn,  with  all  our  might,  and 
then  I  will  be  quiet.'  And  they  said 
Damn,  and  she  was  quiet,  and  then 
they  began  to  talk  about  Aristotle. 
That,"  she  wound  up,  "  is  a  real 
celebrity  really  At  Home.  So  you 
see ..  all  scholars  do  not  talk  like 
Casaubon  in  '  Middlemarch  '  ;  they 
have  their  flippant  moments,  and 
get  horribly  tired  of  being  great." 

No  written  account  of  Miss  Sophia 
Jenyns'  artless  prattle  could  convey 
her  melodious  voice,  grace  of  gesture, 
dramatic  force,  and  facial  expression. 
De  Boys  watched  her,  entranced  ; 
it  was  his  first  direct  encounter  with 
spontaneous  genius.  And  then  her 
fatal,  too  delicious  resemblance  to 
Jane  !  he  could  adore  her  for  that 
alone.  She  led  the  way  and  he 
followed  ;  a  Will  o'  the  Wisp  would 
have  been  a  safer  guide. 

Lady  Hyde-Bassett  was  an  Ameri- 
can by  birth,  and  had  received  her 
education  in  France.  After  much 
traveling  and  many  flirtations  she 
had  married,  at  the  age  of  two-and- 
twenty,  the  distinguished  invalid  and 
philologist,  Sir  Benjamin  Bassett. 

The  Hyde  was  an  inspiration 
attached  to  a  small  property  which 
he  had  inherited  toward  the  close  of 
his  last  illness.  The  marriage  had 
been  eminently  happy,  but  before 


64        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

the  Society  of  Antiquaries  had  ceased 
to  wonder  at  the  devotion  of  so  young 
and  modish  a  woman  to  the  appar- 
ently grim,  the  certainly  middle-aged, 
and,  by  inference,  dull  hieroglyphic, 
he  died.  His  widow's  grief  was  of 
the  desperate  order,  but,  possessing 
ample  means,  she  was  able  to  wreak 
it  by  building  a  marble  tomb  over 
his  bones,  and  founding  a  Hyde- 
Bassett  Scholarship  for  Greek  Verse. 
To  perpetuate  the  deceased  gentle- 
man's tolerant  and  unprejudiced 
temper  she  also  endowed,  with  equal 
generosity,  a  Roman  Catholic  School, 
a  Wesleyan  Methodist  Chapel,  and  a 
Mission  for  the  Suppression  of  Secret 
Societies.  When  pressed  to  give  her 
reason  for  subscribing  to  the  latter, 
she  said  that  Sir  Benjamin,  to  his 
sorrow,  had  belonged  to  one.  "  But," 
she  added,  "  the  rest  is  silence." 
With  accomplishments  which  only 
wanted  an  occasion  to  reorganize 
Europe — or  destroy  it — she  preferred 
to  live  in  retirement  and  make 
matches,  comparable  only  to  Dio- 
cletian, who  found  (if  we  may  believe 
him)  greater  happiness  in  planting 
cabbages  than  in  ruling  the  Empire 
of  Rome.  Her  country  house,  known 
as  "  The  Cloisters,  near  St.  Albans," 
was,  as  it  were,  a  home  of  rest  for 
the  most  eminent  in  science,  politics, 
art,  and  literature  of  her  day,  for, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       65 

from  her  intimate  knowledge  of  one 
genius,  she  never  committed  the 
error  of  making  them  seem  common, 
by  entertaining  more  than  one — of  his 
particular  sphere — at  a  time.  The 
distinguished  person,  therefore,  who 
accepted  her  hospitality,never  labored 
under  the  unspeakable  apprehension 
of  encountering  either  his  nearest 
match,  or  worse,  his  horrid  better. 

Now  while  Miss  Sophia  Jenyns,  of 
the  Par/iassus,  was  gathering  honey- 
suckle, her  ladyship  was  reading 
"  The  Logic  of  Hegel."  The  room, 
in  which  she  sat  was  large,  and 
breathed  a  sweet  odor  of  peace  and 
good  housewifery.  Its  furniture, 
hangings,  and  decoration,  though 
rich,  were  of  a  modest  and  even 
severe  character,  forasmuch  as  the 
cushions,  coverings,  footstools, 
screens,  lamp-shades,  photographs, 
and  gew-gaws  appurtenant  to  a 
modern  boudoir  were  comfortable 
and  pleasing  by  their  absence. 

Man  is  evil  by  nature  [she  read],  and  it  is 
an  error  to  imagine  that  he  could  ever  be 
otherwise.  To  such  extent  as  man  is  and 
acts  like  a  creature  of  nature  to  that  extent 
his  whole  position  and  behavior  is  wrong. 
Nature  is  for  man  only  the  starting-point 
which  he  must  transform  to  something 
better. 

She  sighed,  and  looked  up  from 
her  book  to  gaze  into  a  small  silver- 


66        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

framed  mirror  which  stood  on  the 
table  by  her  side.  Her  complexion 
was  pale,  her  eyes  brown,  and  her 
hair  prematurely  gray.  Some  of  her 
lady  friends  said  they  believed  she 
thought  she  looked  like  Marie  An- 
toinette. Her  years  were  thirty-five, 
but  a  life  of  assiduous  self-discipline 
and  self-culture  (glorified  selfishness, 
in  fact)  had  given  her  the  calmness 
and  dignity  associated  with  the 
idea — if  not  the  reality — of  old  age. 
A  woman  so  finished  in  manner, 
dress,  and  bearing  could  only  be 
called  artificial  in  comparison  with 
the  ordinary  type,  in  the  sense  that 
one  might  so  describe  a  sonnet  as 
differing  from  a  folk-song. 

Meanwhile,  the  leaves  of  Hegel 
were  fluttering.  Margaret,  with  a 
sigh,  wrenched  her  eyes  from  the 
mirror  and  fastened  them  once  more 
on  "  Original  Sin."  But  again  she 
read  no  further,  for  a  lady  entered 
the  room. 

Miss  Bellarmine  was  not  a  maiden 
lady  of  that  pathetic  type  who  pour 
out  tea  and  who  have  once  loved. 
She  was  tall  and  of  commanding 
appearance  ;  her  figure  was  con- 
sidered purely  Greek.  (Perhaps  this 
was  because  she  had  the  good  taste 
to  drape  it  with  Parisian  millinery 
of  modern  date.)  She  had  really 
beautiful  features  if  one  examined 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        67 

them  separately,  but  as  a  whole  they 
appeared  out  of  drawing,  as  though 
they  had  been  picked  off  various 
antique  divinities,  and  stuck  on  her 
face  at  random.  Thus,  her  nose 
began  too  soon,  and  her  mouth  ended 
too  late  ;  while  her  eyes,  charming 
in  color  and  shape,  were  so  placed 
that  they  offered  one  a  constant 
temptation  to  shift  them-  either 
higher  or  lower.  Her  expression 
was  neutral,  for  her  character,  like 
that  of  many  Englishwomen,  slum- 
bered behind  her  countenance  like  a 
dog  in  its  kennel,  to  come  out  growl- 
ing or  amiable  as  circumstances 
might  demand.  She  was  highly 
accomplished,  and  spoke  five  lan- 
guages with  one  well-bred  accent. 
Theology  was  her  recreation,  but 
Villon  the  serious  study  of  her  life. 
Her  notes  on  this  poet  promised  to  be 
the  most  exhaustive  possible,  and 
"  Bellarmine  on  Villon,"  it  was  said, 
would  be  read  like  Coke  on  Lyttle- 
ton,  as  much  for  the  commentary  as 
the  text. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  find  you  alone," 
she  said.  "  Sophia  Jenyns  has  gone 
out  for  what  she  calls  a  prowl,  and 
Wrath  is  playing  Bach  in  the  music- 
room.  What  a  gifted  man  !  What 
is  the  relationship  between  them, 
dear  ?  I  have  heard  every  impos- 
sible explanation." 


68        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

Eliza  Bellarmine  was  a  discreet, 
cold-blooded  person  who  could  meet 
Nature  face  to  face  without  blushing, 
and  wink  at  the  frailties  of  Culture. 
Lady  Hyde-Bassett,  on  the  other 
hand,  would  only  see  evil  where  she 
wished  to  see  it  ;  when  she  met  un- 
pleasant truths  she  rode  off  on  what 
she  called  her  instincts,  and  they 
carried  her  like  Barbary  mares.  She 
did  not  reply  to  her  friend's  question 
immediately. 

"  There  is  no  truth  in  the  story," 
she  said  at  last. 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Miss  Bellar- 
mine, "  that  there  is  more  than 
truth — there  are  diamonds  !  " 

"  I  thought,  Eliza,  you  were  above 
such  littlenesses  !  Sophia  Jenyns  is 
the  most  pure-minded  woman  I 
know.  She  is  not  like  other  geni- 
uses— she  is  different." 

"  They  are  all  different — with  a 
sameness.  I  have  known  thirty,  and 
they  were  all  pure-minded,  and  had, 
at  least,  three  husbands  and  an  epi- 
sode !  " 

"  We  must  not  judge  them,"  mur- 
mured her  ladyship  ;  "  they  are  so 
fascinating,  and  their  husbands  are 
always  so  brutal." 

"  The  artistic  temperament,"  said 
Miss  Bellarmine,  in  measured  tones — 
"  the  artistic  temperament  is  only 
faithful  for  the  purposes  of  local 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       69 

color — to  experience  fidelity,  in  fact. 
Then  the  next  step  is  to  gain  some 
insight  into  infidelity.  Unless  a 
genius  is  extremely  religious  she  is 
foredoomed  to  impropriety  !  " 

"  Eliza,"  said  Lady  Hyde-Bassettr 
"  you  have  neither  humor  nor  imagi- 
ation." 

"None,"  said  that  lady  with  con- 
scious pride. 

"And  yet  you  are  editing  a 
poet  !  " 

The  commentator  smiled,  which 
the  poet,  could  he  have  been  present, 
would  not  have  done. 

"But,"  said  Miss  Bellarmine,  who 
never  left  a  subject  unsifted,  "  you 
have  not  explained  the  relation- 
ship." 

"  Wrath  adopted  Sophia  when  she 
was  only  four  days  old  ;  her  father 
committed  suicide,  and  her  mother 
died  when  she  was  born.  I  blush  for 
human  nature  when  I  hear  a  man  so 
maligned  for  a  kind  action.  He 
must  have  been  very  poor  at  the 
time,  for  he  hacj  only  just  sold  his 
'Antigone.'  " 

"  I  know  all  that,"  said  Eliza ; 
"  and  it  was  very  noble  on  his  part, 
and  all  the  rest  of  it.  But  Sophia  is 
no  longer  four  days  old  !  " 

"  If  they  cared  for  each  other,  is 
there  any  earthly  reason  why  they 
should  not  marry  ?  " 


70        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Certainly.  He  may  have  a  luna- 
tic wife  locked  away  somewhere,  or, 
in  his  extreme  youth,  he  may  have 
married  some  low  person  who  is  too 
respectable  to  divorce  ;  nothing  is 
more  likely.  I  am  very  sorry  for 
•Sophia  Jenyns,  and  more  sorry  for 
him  ;  but  I  think  they  should  either 
foe  frank,  or  separate.  If  they  think 
they  are  wrong,  they  should  bid  each 
other  good-by,  but  if  they  feel  they 
are  right,  they  should  have  the  cour- 
age of  their  opinion.  I  could  respect 
them  then,  although  I  might  disagree 
with  their  conscience.  As  it  is — 
well,  they  evidently  know  they  are 
doing  wrong,  since  they  dare  not  be 
candid.  And  they  must  be  wretched  ! 
He  is  far  too  honest  a  man  not 
to  be  miserable  in  a  false  posi- 
tion." 

"  I  have  listened,  dear,"  said  Lady 
Hyde-Bassett,  "  because  your  senti- 
ments are  so  excellent.  But — first 
swear  you  will  never  tell  !  " 

"  I  cannot  give  my  word  blindly." 

"  Then  I  will  not  tell  you." 

"  Have  I  ever  betrayed  your  con- 
fidence ? " 

"Never,"  said  her  ladyship;  "but 
— this  is  a  most  profound  secret." 

"  In  that  case  perhaps  you  ought 
not  to  repeat  it." 

"  You  are  so  aggravating,  Eliza  ' 
Shall  I  tell  you?" 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        71 

"  That  is  a  matter  for  your  own 
judgment." 

"  Never  breathe  it  to  a  soul  ! 
Wrath  and  Sophia  have  been  mar- 
ried for  two  years." 

"  You  astonish  me,"  said  Eliza,  at 
last,  but  without  moving  a  muscle — 
"  you  astonish  me  greatly.  But  I  am 
inexpressibly  relieved  to  hear  it.  Any 
children  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Lady  Hyde-Bassett ; 
"  so  it  could  not  have  been  on  that 
account.  But  now,"  she  went  on, 
"we  must  talk  of  something  else  ;  it 
would  be  very  awkward  if  either  of 
them  came  suddenly  in.  Have  I 
told  you  about  De  Boys  Mauden  ? 
He  has  just  won  my  scholarship  ;  a 
most  brilliant  young  fellow  ;  they 
say  he  will  be  another  Person.  But 
he  has  been  overworking,  and  the 
doctor  has  insisted  on  his  taking  a 
rest.  So  .1  have  made  him  come 
here.  I  sent  the  brougham  for  him, 
but  he  told  Biffin  he  preferred  to 
walk.  He  cannot  know  the  way,  and, 
manlike,  would  probably  rather  perish 
than  ask  anyone  to  direct  him  !  " 

"  I  shall  be  most  interested  to 
make  his  aquaintance — most  in- 
terested. I  know  his  name  quite 
well."  She  did  not  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  but  as  a  matter  of  principle  a 
commentator  and  an  occasional  con- 


72        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

tributor  to  the  learned  reviews  could 
not  be  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  a 
future  Person. 

"  He  is  very  handsome,"  said  her 
ladyship ;  adding,  after  a  pause, 
"  when  he  has  got  his  degree  I  shall 
let  him  revise  and  augment  all  Ben- 
jamin's unpublished  manuscripts.  I 
began  them  myself,  but  my  Greek  is 
too  Homeric  !  " 

"  Mr.  Mauden,"  announced  the 
footman. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN    WHICH    A  LADY  HAS  A    TANTRUM, 
AND  A  GENTLEMAN  PLAYS    A  FUGUE. 

JSSSlOPHIA  JENYNS  had 
parted  company  with  De 
Boys  in  the  hall,  and  was 
now  hurrying  toward  the 
music-room,  where  Wrath 
_  was  playing  a  fugue  in 
masterly  style.  But  Sophia  was  in 
no  mood  for  harmony.  She  burst 
open  the  door,  flounced  in,  and  put 
her  arms  round  her  husband's  neck. 
"  Tom,"  she  said,  "  I  have  been 
reconsidering  what  you  said  this 
morning  about  making  our  marriage 
public.  I  know  myself  so  well  that 
I  am  sure  I  could  never  love  you 
again  if  you  did.  There  is  not  a 
correct  bone  in  my  body  ;  it  would 
kill  me  to  be  called  Mrs.  Wrath — 
simply  kill  me.  I  adore  you  and 
worship  you  and  idolize  you,  although 
you  are  my  husband.  That  I  can- 
not help  ;  but  to  let  other  people 


74       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

know  it — oh,  intolerable  !  I  will  not 
be  a  British  matron.  I  will  not  be 
called  virtuous.  It  is  no  one's  busi- 
ness whether  I  am  married  or  not — 
a  lot  of  fussy,  prying,  evil-minded  old 
women — let  them  talk  !  I  think  of 
them  when  I  say,  '  1  heard  the  owl 
scream  and  the  crickets  cry ' — no 
wonder  I  make  the  whole  house 
creep  !  Buh  !  And,  Tom — you  fas- 
cinating, lovely,  wonderful  creature, 
I  have  just  been  flirting  with  all  my 
might,  and  by  to-morrow  I  shall  be 
madly  in  love  !  Compared  with  you 
he  is  a  monster,  but  in  your  absence 
he  does  very  well.  He  is  already 
quoting  Spencer,  and  his  voice  is 
agreeable.  Tell  me  you  worship  me, 
and  I  will  tell  you  the  rest  ! " 

"Why  don't  you  flirt  with  me, 
dearest,  and  leave  these  young  fel- 
lows to  their  work  ?  " 

"  My  soul,"  said  his  wife,  "  my 
heart  of  hearts,  you  are  the  dullest 
person  to  flirt  with  I  ever  met.  I 
never  flirted  with  you  in  my  life  ;  I 
half-tried  it  once  by  pretending  to 
love  you.  But  I  found  it  too  easy 
to  pretend — hence  our  hideous,  inar- 
tistic marriage  certificate  !  Never 
refer  to  it  if  you  have  any  regard  for 
my  self-respect." 

"  Sophia,  seriously " 

"  I  will  -not  be  glared  at,  nor 
frowned  «t  !  How  handsome  you 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        75 

are  !  If  you  were  not  my  husband 
I  would  elope  with  you  to-morrow. 
What  a  mercy  I  met  you  before  I 
saw  anyone  else.  If  I  had  met  you 
too  late — oh,  if  I  had  met  you  too 
late — "  She  paused.  "  I  am  afraid 
I  would  not  have  called  it  too  late  !  " 

"  This  is  all  very  pretty,"  said 
Wrath,  "  and  you  are,  no  doubt,  very 
adorable.  But  you  must  behave 
yourself ;  other  people  do  not  under- 
stand you  as  I  do." 

He  was  about  eight-and-forty,  and 
•  looked  older.  His  features,  though 
fine,  were  irregular  ;  his  poetic  brow, 
his  large  and  eminently  practical 
nose,  the  unrest  in  his  dark  eyes,  and 
the  stillness  about  his  mouth  be- 
tokened him  the  possessor  of  an  un- 
usually complex  disposition.  He 
was  an  extremely  handsome  man, 
yet  such  was  his  simplicity,  that  not 
all  his  wife's  flatteries  could  convince 
him  that  he  was  other  than  plain. 
The  absence  of  personal  vanity  in  an 
v 'eminently  self-conscious  age,  when 
every  hero  sings  his  own  epic,  had 
the  curious  effect  of  making  many 
people  accept  him  at  his  own  esti- 
mate ;  they  argued,  from  their  own 
experience,  that  a  person  who  was 
not  his  own  greatest  admirer  could 
not  possess  admirable  characteris- 
tics. 

"  But  seriously,"  he  said,  secretly 


76        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

enjoying  his  wife's  brilliant,  ever- 
varying  countenance — from  the  artis- 
tic point  of  view  she  was  a  constant 
joy — "  quite  seriously.  You  must  be 
guided  by  my  knowledge  of  the 
world.  I  must  announce  the  mar- 
riage, and  so  put  an  end  to  this  re- 
volting gossip  !  " 

"  Revolting  gossip  does  not  mat- 
ter ;  only  facts  are  fatal — simply 
disastrous.  Do  not  expose  me  to 
the  humiliation  of  being  publicly 
branded  as  an  honest  woman  !  " 

His  mouth  twitched  ;  there  was 
always  too  much  sadness  in  Sophia's 
jesting  to  make  it  downright  laugh- 
able. 

"  While  people  can  talk  about  us," 
she  went  on,  "  we  give  them  an 
opportunity  to  show  their  charitable 
views  of  human  nature,  and  so  they 
encourage  us  ;  but  if  they  once  knew 
the  truth,  no  one  would  care  to  see 
me  act,  and  your  pictures  would  be 
called  dull,  I  know  !  " 

"Where,"  he  said,  "do  you  learn 
this  cynicism  ?  It  afflicts  me  beyond 
words  ;  it  is  utterly  false,  utterly 
corrupt,  utterly  disgusting.  You 
certainly  do  not  hear  it  from  Lady 
Hyde-Bassett." 

She  glanced  at  him  swiftly,  and 
as  swiftly  glanced  away.  He  had 
colored  a  little — no  doubt  from  an- 
noyance. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        77 

"  Lady  Hyde-Bassetthas  not  lived 
my  life,"  she  said,  catching  her 
breath  ;  "she  was  not  born  a  pauper  ! 
Her  father  was  not  starved  out  of 
his  wits,  and  her  mother  did  not 
dance  herself  to  death  for  a  pound 
a  week." 

"  Sophia  !  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  you  have  always 
been  very  kind  to  me.  I  am  not 
ungrateful." 

"  Do  you  talk  of  gratitude — to 
me?" 

"  I  will  talk  of  anything  I  like  to 
anybody  !  Have  you  asked  Mar- 
garet to  sit  for  the  Madonna  ?" 

"  I  have  asked  her  to  give  me  a 
sitting  or  two — yes.  But  it  is 
merely  for  the  shape  of  her  face  ;  it 
would  not  be  a  portrait.  Pray  be 
careful  how  you  refer  to  the  matter, 
because  I  was  studiously  careful  to 
explain  that  I  could  not  paint  the 
Madonna  from  any  woman  in  the 
world.  It  merely  struck  me  that 
Marg— that  Lady  Hyde-Bassett's 
face  was  peculiarly " 

"Fiddlesticks  !  " 

"  If  you  are  going  to  be  peevish, 
I  think  we  had  better  not  talk." 

"You  are  very  unkind  to  me. 
And  I  have  a  frightful  headache  ;  I 
can  hardly  see.  I  am  sure  this  place 
is  unhealthy.  I  was  only  think- 
ing, why  trouble  Margaret  to  sit,  if 


78       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

you  are  not  going  to  make  the  picture 
like  her  ?  What  would  be  her  object 
in  sitting  ?  she  might  as  well  be  a 
lay-figure  at  once.  I  am  afraid  she 
will  feel  insulted." 

"  She  seemed  to  perfectly  realize 
what  I  meant,  and  was  very  amiable 
about  it." 

"  Naturally  !  She  could  hardly  let 
you  see  that  she  was  annoyed — in 
her  own  house,  and  when  you  are  a 
guest  !  Why  can't  I  sit  for  you  ?  " 

"Your  type,  you  know,  dearest, 
is — is  not  conventionally  religious. 
You  are  most  beautiful,  but " 

"  I  would  do  very  well,  I  suppose, 
for  the  Woman  taken  in  Adultery  !  " 

"  I  have  never  seen  you  like  this 
before." 

"  Perhaps  not.  Thank  God,  I 
don't  sit  with  my  mouth  screwed  in 
one  perpetual  simper,  looking  reli- 
gious,and  wondering  whether  my  new 
gowns  will  fit !  I  want  you  to  under- 
stand that  I  have  got  a  soul !  and  a 
mind  !  and  individuality  !" 

He  sighed  and  returned  to  his 
playing  ;  but  there  was  no  spirit  in 
his  performance. 

"You  are  not  to  tell  Margaret  of 
our  marriage,"  said  Sophia  sud- 
denly ;  "  when  I  get  ready  I  will  tell 
her  myself." 

He  flushed  again,  and  this  time 
more  decidedly.  Unfortunately,  he 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        79 

had  informed  her  ladyship  of  his 
happy  condition  that  very  after- 
noon— in  a  burst  of  friendly  con- 
fidence— after  she  had  promised 
to  sit  for  the  Madonna.  Could 
the  circumstances  be  more  awk- 
ward ? 

"Do  you  think  she  suspects?" 
said  Sophia.  But  women  have  a 
fatal  genius  for  answering  their  own 
questions.  Before  her  husband 
could  reply  she  went  on,  "  I  do  not 
see  how  she  can  ;  I  have  always  been 
very  careful." 

"  Sophia,"  he  began,  intending  to 
make  a  clean  breast  of  the  matter, 
"  the  fact  is " 

She  stamped  her  foot — a  beautiful 
foot,  too,  another  artistic  joy.  "  I 
loathe  facts  ;  I  will  have  my  own  way 
about  it.  You  promised  me  that  I 
could  keep  it  a  secret  as  long  as  I 
wished." 

"I  know  that,"  he  replied,  "but 
you  said  this  morning " 

"I  am  always  being  told  what  I 
said  this  morning !  Never  mind 
what  I  said  six  hours  ago  ;  it  is  the 
afternoon  now.  I  suppose  I  may 
change  my  mind." 

"  But,"  he  said,  "  I  am  heartily 
sick  of  al!  this  absurd  mystery.  1 — 
I  am  rather  proud.  I  cannot  explain 
it,  but  it  affects  your  honor.  These 
reports  you  find  so  amusing  are  gross 


8o       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

insults.  I  was  mad  to  make  such  a 
fool's  promise." 

"  No,"  said  Sophia,  "  you  were  not 
mad,  you  were  in  love  with  mer 
that's  all.  You  would  have  prom- 
ised anything  ! "  It  was  most  in- 
discreet  to  remind  him  of  this  mourn- 
ful truth.  Wrath  received  it  with 
sublime  (if  highly  colored)  indigna- 
tion. 

"  I  was  never  in  love  with  you," 
he  replied  angrily.  "  I  detest  the 
phrase.  Wife  to  me  is  a  sacred 
name.  But  few  women  under- 
stand a  man's  best  feelings,  and 
least  of  all  on  the  subject  of  love. 
They  do  not  realize  that  even  the 
vilest  of  us  would  rather  think  that 
the  woman  he  loves  is  a  bit  of 
divinity.  But  it  is  very  seldom 
that  she  will  let  him  think  so — 
very  seldom.  Are  we  quarreling?" 
he  said  abruptly;  "once  I  thought 
we  could  never  quarrel.  This  is 
terrible  !  " 

"  This,"  she  said,  "  is  marriage  !  " 

"  You  speak  as  though  you  re- 
gretted  " 

"  You  recognize  regret  as  though 
you  were  long  acquainted  with  it  !  " 
A  woman  always  handles  sarcasm 
with  the  point  toward  her  own 
breast.  Sophia  turned  pale  at  her 
own  words. 

"  You  do  regret,"  she  said. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        8 1 

"  I  regret  anything  that  makes  you 
unhappy." 

"This  is  equivocation  ;  you  never 
did  speak  out  and  you  never  will. 
A  man  so  guarded  in  his  words 
must  have  very  treacherous  thoughts. 
Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that  ?  " 
she  said  passionately.  "  I  repeat, 
you  are  very  difficult  to  understand. 
I  have  been  with  you  ever  since  I 
was  born,  and  I  have  always  done  all 
the  talking  ! "  He  did  not  attempt 
to  deny  this,  but  still  kept  his  eyes 
on  her  with  the  patient,  touching, 
and  wistful  expression  of  the  collie 
dog  in  "  The  Shepherd's  Chief 
Mourner." 

"  One  has  to  take  you  on  trust  or 
not  at  all, "continued  his  wife  ;  "  the 
most  exasperating  man  God  ever 
made !  It  is  a  most  unfortunate 
thing  that  we  ever  met  ;  you  are 
naturally  secretive,  and  I  am  natur- 
ally suspicious.  Why  did  you  not 
let  them  take  me  to  the  workhouse  ? 
And  why  did  you  make  love  to  me  ? 
You  know  you  did  ;  I  cannot  re- 
member one  single  word  you  ever- 
said,  but  you  have  got  an  artful  way 
of  implying  everything  under  the  sun 
without  uttering  a  syllable  !  You 
never  even  asked  me  to  marry  you  ; 
all  I  know  is,  that  I  am  married  and 
I  wish  I  wasn't."  And  she  wept. 
Sophia  never  exhausted  herself  by 


82        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

restraining  her  emotions  ;  tears  now 
sprang  to  her  eyes  and  rolled  down 
her  cheeks  so  softly  and  sweetly, 
that  to  see  her  one  would  have 
thought  that  weeping  were  as  easy 
as  breathing.  It  was  a  pretty  study 
in  highly  cultivated  sorrow. 

"  My  dearest,"  said  Wrath,  "  you 
are  not  well.  But  this  is  all  my 
fault  ;  I  have  been  a  beast.  How 
can  you  like  such  a  great,  clumsy, 
ill-natured  brute  ?  It  is  a  very 
flimsy  excuse,  but  I  think  I  worked 
too  long  this  morning.  Margaret 
was  reading  aloud  and  I  did  not  like 
to " 

"What  was  she   reading?"     said 


Sophia. 
"  Some 
title,   but, 

new 
'    he 

novel  ; 
added, 

I 

forget  the 
the   cover 

was  green 

!  " 

"  What  was  it  about  ?  " 

He  grabbed  at  the  opportunity  to 
amuse  her,  and  detailed  the  plot 
with  elaborate  care — drawing  how- 
ever, rather  from  his  imagination 
than  his  memory.  The  result  was 
an  adaptation  of "  Red  Cotton  Night- 
cap Country,"  "  Wilhelm  Meister," 
and  "  Gil  Bias."  He  might  have 
made  some  fame  as  a  novelist. 

When  he  had  finished,  Sophia 
coughed.  "  How  well  you  remember 
it,"  she  said  ;  "  you  must  have  listened 
very  attentively  !  " 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        83 

Then,  remarking  that  she  felt 
better,  she  left  him.  He  heard  her 
singing  "  I  know  that  my  Redeemer 
liveth  "  as  she  went  up  the  starts, 
and  rejoiced  that  he  had  cured  her 
headache,  and  could  resume  his 
fugue. 

So  little  do  men  know  their  wives. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  WHICH  A  LADY  LOOKS  GRATEFUL. 

RATH  had  been  playing 
in  ineffable  contentment 
for  some  thirty  minutes, 
when  the  door  was  opened 
softly  and  Lady  Hyde- 
Bassett  walked  in.  Her 
gait  was  peculiar  —  not  goddess- 
like,  defiant,  and  untrammeled  in  the 
manner  of  Sophia,  but  agreeably 
suggestive  of  moneyed  leisure,  a  cer- 
tain feminine  timidity,  and  clinging 
draperies.  She  was  already  dressed 
for  dinner,  and  was  looking  her 
best  in  violet  silk  and  amethysts. 
Here  it  may  be  a  fitting  opportunity 
to  mention  that  she  was  ever  attired 
in  beautiful  garments.  "  How  can  I 
make  myself  a  fright,"  she  told 
Eliza  Bellarmine,  "  when  I  know  that 
my  dearest  is  watching  me  from 
heaven  ?  It  would  make  him  so  un- 
happy to  see  me  growing  dowdy  !  " 
Which,  Eliza  thought,  would  have 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        85 

been  impious  had  it  not  been  Ameri- 
can. 

Margaret  and  Wrath  had  known 
each  other  for  many  years.  She  had 
often  given  him  motherly  advice  in 
his  attempt  to  bring  up  Sophia 
(who  was  her  junior  by  some  ten 
birthdays),  and  their  friendship, 
which  had  been  somewhat  solemn 
during  Sir  Benjamin's  lifetime,  was 
now  stepping  the  enchanting  mea- 
sures of  an  intellectual  jig.  It  may 
be  that  if  Lady  Hyde-Bassett  had 
not  vowed  perpetual  widowhood,  and 
if  Miss  Jenyns  had  not  suddenly 
grown  from  a  tiresome  schoolgirl  into- 
a  maddening  but  all-compelling 
woman — but  why  dwell  on  might- 
have-beens  ?  Wrath,  however,  had 
very  nearly  loved  her  once,  and  as 
he  was  not  a  man  who  cast  his 
affection  on  what  was  unlovely, 
where  he  bestowed  it,  there  it  re- 
mained. He  was  quite  conscious 
that  he  had  a  kind  regard  for  Mar- 
garet, but  the  difference  between 
that  kind  regard  and  his  overmaster- 
ing, limitless  devotion  to  his  wife 
was  so  immeasurable  that  it  never 
even  occurred  to  him  to  compare 
them.  One  woman  occupied  his  life, 
and  the  other  an  occasional  thought, 
and  even  that  thought  would  be,  as 
it  were,  a  ripple  on  a  whole  ocean  of 
Sophia. 


86        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  It  is  wicked  to  interrupt  you," 
said  her  ladyship,  as  she  entered, 
"  but  I  must  steal  a  moment  just  to 
tell  you  about  my  new  genius — 
young  Mauden." 

"A  new  genius?"  he  said,  lifting 
his  eyebrows. 

"  I  am  not  overrating  him,  I  assure 
you.  Once  you  had  more  confidence 
in  my  judgment  !  " 

"  Naturally,"  said  Wrath.  "  That 
was  when  /  was  your  new  genius." 

"  Ah,  why  refer  to  my  past  follies  ? " 
said  Margaret,  which  was  certainly 
an  adroit  way  of  suggesting  them. 
She  was  a  coquette  before  she  was  a 
widow. 

"  I  own,"  he  said,  "  it  is  not  plea- 
sant to  be  reminded  of  one's  mis- 
takes." 

"  I  never  mistook  you"  she  mur- 
mured ;  "  I  was  only  mistaken  in 
myself." 

"I  can  remember,"  he  began — "  I 
can  remember " 

"  Do  not  remind  me,"  said  Mar- 
garet. She  was  wondering  how  she 
could  ever  have  allowed  herself  to 
even  vaguely  contemplate  the  im- 
possible possibility  of  marrying  again. 
It  was  her  only  consolation  to  think, 
that  for  at  least  six  months  after  Sir 
Benjamin's  death  she  had  not  been 
in  her  perfect  mind  ;  chaos  was  come 
and  the  reign  of  irresponsibility.  "  It 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        8? 

wanted  a  Shakspere,"  she  thought, 
"  to  make  the  Lady  Ann  accept 
Richard  III.  over  her  husband's  cof- 
fin ;  it  must  have  been  then  or 
never  1" 

"  Do  not  remind  me,"  she  said 
again. 

"  Is  it  only  men  who  should  have 
the  burden  of  remembering?"  said 
Wrath,  surprised  at  his  unusual 
power  of  repartee,  and  deciding  that 
it  was  inspired  by  the  twilight. 

"  I  remember  too  well  too  many 
errors,"  she  sighed. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  women  only 
confess  the  sins  they  have  left  un- 
done!" 

"  It  was  a  man  who  prayed  for  a 
talent  of  forgetting." 

"  He  prayed  in  vain,"  said  Wrath, 
now  thoroughly  exhausted  and  wish- 
ing  to  goodness  that  Sophia  would 
come  in  and  "do  the  talking." 
Half-unconsciously  he  turned  an 
ivory  button  in  the  wall,  and  lo  !  the 
room  was  illuminated  by  the  discern- 
ing beams  of  the  electric  light. 

"What  a  useful  invention!"  he 
exclaimed. 

"  Most  useful !  "  said  her  ladyship, 
no  less  heartily. 

"  By  the  by,"  he  said,  "  Sophia  has 
retracted  her  promise  that  I  might 
announce  our  marriage.  She  is  sub- 
lime !  As  she  is  suffering  from 


88        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

neuralgia,"  he  went  on,  "  I  did  not 
tell  her " 

"  I  will  be  as  silent  as  the  grave," 
said  Margaret,  divining  his  whole 
difficulty  at  a  guess. 

He  could  only  gaze  his  gratitude, 
admiration,  and  wonder.  "I  never 
tease  her  when  she  is  studying  a  new 
part,"  he  explained  ;  "  she  is  much 
too  sensitive  to  be  able  to  do  good 
work  under  the  stress  of  annoyance. 
And  to  a  woman  of  her  nervous 
temperament  a  small  fret  is  more 
distressing  than  a  serious  calamity  ; 
her  patience  is  too  mighty  for  trivi- 
alities. Paper  boats  cannot  sail  in 
the  north  wind  !  "  He  smiled,  and 
was  evidently  fully  alive  to  what  the 
world  called  the  cussedness  of  the 
divine  Sophia;  only  he  did  not  call 
it  cussedness  ;  it  was  to  him  the  last 
magnificent  touch  to  her  colossal 
spirit. 

"  But  when  do  you  try  her  pati- 
ence?" said  Lady  Hyde-Bassett. 
"  If  every  woman  of  genius. had  such 
a  husband  !  I  do  not  wonder  that 
she  worships  the  ground  you  walk 
on  ;  that  is  a  secret  which  she  cannot 
keep.  Oh,  when  a  man  is  unselfish, 
no  woman — not  even  the  best — can 
compare  with  him.  Splendid  !  splen- 
did !  I  have  only  known  one  man 
like  you,  and  that  was  Sir  Benjamin." 
The  sudden  remembrance  of  her 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        89 

own  desolation  was  so  afflicting  that 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Do  not  mention  us  in  the  same 
breath,"  said  Wrath ;  "you  know 
what  I  think  about  him." 

It  had  been  his  appreciation  for 
Sir  Benjamin  which  had  assailed  her 
heart  so  perilously  in  what  we  may 
call  the  If  period.  "It  is  such  a  com- 
fort to  me,"  she  said,  "  to  know  that 
at  least  one  of  my  husband's  friends 
had  some  conception  of  the  man 
apart  from  his  attainments.  I  must 
have  loved  him  if  he  had  only  been 
a  sausage-seller  !  " 

It  was,  no  doubt,  very  touching 
and  perhaps  an  occasion  when  her 
ladyship  could  throw  an  affectionate 
glance  at  her  guest  with  perfect  pro- 
priety. 

But  Sophia,  who  happened  to 
come  into  the  room  at  that  moment, 
and  who  had  not  heard  the  preced- 
ing remark,  did  not  understand  it. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  lightly,  "  I  am 
looking  for  young  Mauden.  Such 
an  intelligent  boy  !  I  promised  to 
show -him  the  conservatory." 

Without  looking  at  Wrath — or  at 
least,  without  appearing  to  look,  for 
we  may  be  quite  sure  that  she  had 
nicely  observed  every  line  of  his 
countenance — she  wheeled  round 
and  went  out. 

"  How   lovely   she    looks    in    that 


90        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

yellow  crepe !  "  said  Margaret,  not 
enviously,  yet  with  a  sigh.  "  It  is 
nice  to  be  young  !  " 

Wrath  felt  that  it  would  ill  become 
him  to  be  unreservedly  enthusiastic 
on  the  subject,  seeing  his  close  rela- 
tion to  the  lady.  But  he  walked  to 
the  door  and  watched  the  incompar- 
able creature  sail  down  the  corridor. 

As  he  went  upstairs  to  dress  for 
dinner,  he  wondered  what  he  had 
done  to  deserve  the  love  of  such  a 
woman,  and,  lest  any  cynical  reader 
should  assume  that  so  excellent  and 
kind-hearted  a  man  was  thanking 
Heaven  for  a  blessing  which  he  did 
not  possess,  let  us  hasten  to  add  that 
Sophia  was  no  less  often  astonished, 
on  her  part,  that  she  was  blessed 
with  such  a  husband.  For,  to  do 
her  justice,  she  knew  his  strength 
and  her  own  weakness  ;  if  he  in- 
dulged her  beyond  reason,  the  fact 
was  due  to  his  magnanimity  and  not 
her  superior  will.  He  might  have 
crushed  her  but  did  not.  Hence, 
his  charm. 

But  on  that  particular  afternoon 
Sophia's  heart  was  usurped  by  feel- 
ings very  unlike  gratitude  ;  vague 
anger,  clear  discontent,  and  mother- 
less desperation — the  three  witches 
of  a  woman's  soul — were  doing  their 
best  to  work  mischief.  To  be  sus- 
picious of  Margaret  was  unfriendly  ; 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        91 

to  distrust  Wrath  was  something  not 
very  far  removed  from  base — so  kind 
a  husband,  so  devoted  a  lover,  so 
upright  a  man — yet  she  could  not 
forego  the  luxury  of  a  grievance. 
Besides,  in  spite  of  all  argument, 
common  sense,  and  justice,  she  really 
was  jealous. 

Why  should  her  husband  paint 
Margaret  Hyde-Bassett  as  the  Ma- 
donna, and  why  should  Margaret 
Hyde-Bassett  roll  her  eyes  at  Wrath  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SHOWING  HOW  SOME  VERY  NECES- 
SARY INFORMATION  MAY  SEEM 
LIKE  A  DIGRESSION. 

T  is  an  obvious  truism  that 
love  in  all  human  relations 
is,  in  the  very  nature  of 
things,  selfish  ;  those  who 
love  unselfishly  only  do  so 
by  living  in  a  state  of  con- 
stant \varfare  with  their  meaner 
instincts'?  .  The  natural  desire  is  to 
absorb  every  thought  and  moment  of 
the  loved  being  ;  to  begrudge  every 
interest,  and  dislike  all  things  and 
anything  which  would  seem  to  dis- 
tract the  You  from  incessant  depend- 
ence on  the  Me.  This  is  the  undis- 
ciplined, raw  desire  ;  many  conquer 
it — Wrath,  for  instance  ;  more,  like 
Sophia,  do  not. 

Yet  she  w3s  not  an  exacting 
woman — the  self-repression  was  by  no 
means  all  on  his  side  ;  she  suffered 
her  husband's  interest  in  his  pictures 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        93 

with  silent  heroism  ;  she  often 
remained  away  from  his  studio  lest 
she  should  interrupt  his  work  ;  she 
concealed  many  of  her  professional 
worries  for  fear  of  causing  him  need- 
less anxiety — for  a  creature  so  way- 
ward and  naturally  heedless  of  others, 
her  thoughtfulness  where  he  was 
concerned  was  even  pathetic.  But 
it  is  only  one  more  paradox  from  that 
nest  of  paradoxes — the  human  heart 
— that  only  love  is  strong  enough  to 
subdue  love,  and  affection  had  worked 
its  great  miracle  in  Sophia's  willful 
nature.  When  Wrath  was  in  ques- 
tion she  was  capable  of  any  sacrifice, 
could  have  made  herself  as  though 
she  was  not,  would  have  renounced 
all  things  and  followed  him  gladly — 
did  he  wish  it — into  obscurity  and 
the  suburbs.  It  was  because  she 
honestly  believed  that  his  social 
position  would  suffer  if  their  mar- 
riage were  made  known,  that  she 
pretended  to  hold  such  eccentric  and 
unfeminine  views  on  the  subject  of  a 
fair  name.  How  the  poor  creature 
winced  and  ached  under  the  looks 
and  whisperings  she  daily  noted  and 
overheard,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
say.  A  woman  who  is  really  living 
an  immoraj  life  always  feels,  like  a 
condemned  criminal,  that  the  verdict 
is,  if  hard  to  bear,  certainly  just. 
But  to  Sophia,  conscious  of  her  inno- 


94        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

cence  and  only  too  proud  to  be  the 
wife  of  the  man  she  loved  and 
honored  above  all  others,  the  mud 
pellets  aimed  at  her  reputation  stuck 
like  knives  in  her  heart.  That  she 
was  suffering  for  an  absurd  reason 
has  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  death  in 
grotesque  circumstances  is  none  the 
less  death,  and  the  martyr  to  a  fool's 
cause  is  still  a  martyr.  As  we  have 
said  before,  it  is  the  heart  that  makes 
the  occasion. 

It  had  transpired,  after  Wrath  was 
elected  a  Royal  Academician,  that 
his  family  was  most  distinguished  : 
his  uncle  the  Cabinet  Minister,  his 
cousins  the  Wrath-Havilands  of 
Wrath,  his  mother's  aunt,  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Welby,  and  his  connec- 
tions, the  Granville-Coxes  of  Somer- 
set, to  say  nothing  of  his  step-brother, 
General  Gorm-Gorm,  and  his  step- 
sister-in-law,  Lady  Gertrude  Gorm- 
Gorm,  etc.,  etc.  To  Wrath  himself 
the  whole  thing  was  too  ludicrous  to 
be  contemptible,  but  Sophia — poor 
Sophia — was  undeniably  impressed. 
The  early  teaching  of  a  certain  excel- 
lent governess,  whose  papa  was  a 
retired  colonel,  had  done  its  work, 
and  the  gods  of  Sophia's  childhood, 
(beginning  with  a  duke  and  ending 
with  a  chancery  barrister),  remained 
her  gods,  although  she  had  seen  their 
altars  destroyed,  and  themselves 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        95 

profanely  called  humanity.  She 
would  not  have  it  said  that  Wrath 
had  married  beneath  him  ;  she  could 
not  see  the  duchesses  who  now 
flattered  him,  presently  shooting 
cold  glances  because  he  had  mar- 
ried an  actress.  Possibly  Sophia 
did  not  reason  without  syllogisms, 
although  the  word  itself  would  have 
caused  her  considerable  alarm. 

Her  fight  for  success  (and  she  did 
not  wake  up  one  morning  to  find 
herself  famous — she  had  served  her 
dreary  apprenticeship  with  the  rest) 
had  been  waged  more  in  the  hope 
of  making  herself,  at  least  in  some 
small  degree,  his  intellectual  equal, 
than  because  she  had  great  ideas 
about  Art,  or  a  longing  for  public 
applause.  She  loved  her  profession, 
of  course,  and  would  have  been  an 
accomplished  actress  had  she  never 
known  Wrath — for  talent  does  not 
»  rest  on  the  accident  of  forming  a 
certain  friendship  or  meeting  such 
and  such  a  person,  but  he  was  her 
audience,  the  historic  one  in  a  vast 
multitude,  whom  every  artist  singles 
out  as  the  critic  of  all  others  to 
please.  If  Wrath  approved  of  her 
performance  all  was  well  ;  but  if  he 
found  fault,  not  all  the  praises  of  the 
world  could  have  given  her  the  en- 
couragement she  needed".  Perhaps 
this  was  not  as  it  should  be  from  an 


96        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

aesthetic  point  of  view,  but  Sophia's 
art  was  not  the  result  of  cultivation, 
but  instinctive  ;  she  was,  in  fact,  most 
artistic  when  she  was  least  scholarly. 
The  poet  Gray  once  wrote  of  a 
tragedy  that  Aristotle's  best  rules 
were  observed  in  it,  in  a  manner 
which  showed  the  author  had  never 
heard  of  Aristotle.  Miss  Jenyns' 
acting  had  the  same  unpremeditated 
excellence.  The  polite  world,  how- 
ever, was'doing  its  best  to  make  her 
think  that  her  readings  were  the 
result  of  laborious  thought,  that  she 
spent  hours  over  the  nice  lifting  of 
an  eyelid  and  devoted  months  to  the 
right  inflection  of  a  syllable,  but 
Wrath,  with  his  usual  bluntness, 
having  declared  that  ""''all  such 
twaddle  made  him  sick,"  she  dared 
not  assume  prodigious  airs  in  his 
presence.  But  she  found  it  humili- 
ating to  reflect  that  she  had  so  very 
little  to  do  with  her  own  ability — 
that  she  was,  after  all,  a  sort  of 
puppet  controlled  by  an  invisible 
power,  who  made  her  do  wonderful 
things  when  she  thought  she  was 
simply  acting  on  a  chance  idea. 

Now  young  Mauden,  fresh  from 
Oxford,  with  much  learning  and  no 
wisdom,  with  Plato  in  his  brain,  the 
Odyssey  next  his  heart,  and  Aristo- 
phanes in  his  portmanteau — Mauden, 
who  could  find  the  whole  of  Aristotle 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        97 

in  a  pause,  was  exactly  the  sort  of 
clever  youth  to  persuade  a  fresh 
woman  into  a  dull  pedant.  Already, 
after  one  conversation  with  De  Boys 
on  the  Irony  of  Shakspere  con- 
trasted with  the  Irony  of  Sophocles, 
a  brief  discussion  on  the  respective 
characters  of  Lear  and  CEcliptis,  with 
hints  at  Dumas,  so  local  but  so 
witty,  and  Augier,  whose  humor 
deserted  him  in  a  big  situation, 
Sophia  was  beginning  to  feel  that 
Wrath  as  a  dramatic  critic  lacked 
culture ;  he  talked  too  much  about 
work  and  common  sense,  and  not 
enough  about  the  True,  the 
Universal,  and  Objectivity.  Yet  he, 
too,  was  an  Oxford  man,  and  well 
read  ;  so  differently  do  men  apply 
their  knowledge. 

And  here  let  us  judge  kindly  of 
Sophia  ;  she  had  been  much  spoiled, 
she  was  young,  beautiful,  and  had 
great  talents.  For  even  less  cause 
many  poor  mortals  have  been  led 
into  vainglory,  and  have  suffered 
much  vexation  of  spirit.  She  had 
not  yet  that  great  gift  of  self- 
knowledge  which,  though  a  painful 
blessing,  is  still  our  greatest,  and  the 
one  to  be  prayed  for  beyond  all 
others  ;  for  the  man  who  knows  him- 
self in  all  his  great  imperfections  and 
small  virtues  suffers  more  under 
praise  than  he  ever  could  under  cen- 


98        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

sure,  which  at  worst  can  only  remind 
him  of  what  his  too  willing  conscience 
has  forgotten. 

We  have  said  that  when  Sophia 
left  the  music  room  she  was,  in  spite 
of  all  reason  and  duty,  jealous  ;  it 
followed,  therefore,  that  her  vanity 
was  all  the  more  sensitive.  The 
long  glance  of  reverential  but  intense 
admiration  which  fell  from  the  fine 
eyes  of  Mr.  De  Boys  Mauden,  when 
she  met  him  in  the  conservatory, 
warmed  her  chilled  soul.  She 
smiled  divinely,  blushed  celestially, 
and  murmured,  for  no  earthly  reason, 
"  I  am  late  !  " 

De  Boys,  reconsidering  the  meet- 
ing afterward,  wondered  how  he 
found  strength  to  resist  the  impulse 
to  cry  out  "  Jane  !  "  and  kiss  her. 
Her  likeness  to  Jane — Jane,  whom 
he  passionately  worshiped,  and 
whom,  in  all  devotion,  he  hoped  to 
make  his  adoring  wife — was  too 
bewildering. 

It  is  just  possible  that  Odysseus 
would  have  gone  to  greater  lengths 
than  the  faithful  Penelope,  on  the 
reasonable  argument  of  a  strong 
resemblance. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SHOWING      HOW      TRAGEDY      IS 
ALWAYS    IN    FIVE  ACTS. 


NOT 


1SS  ELIZA  BELLAR- 
MINE,  all  this  time,  was 
sitting  in  front  of  the 
looking-glass  in  her  bed- 
room, wondering  whether 
her  eyes  showed  the 
ettects  of  weeping.  She  wept  so 
seldom  that  when  she  did,  her  face 
for  some  time  afterward  would  be 
irresistibly  suggestive  of  the  beach 
after  a  storm. 

"  It  is  hard,"  she  said,  staring  at 
herself,  "  that  one  woman  should 
have  so  much,  and  another  nothing. 
Who  could  blame  Wrath  ?  " 

From  which  the  intelligent  reader 
will  at  once  gather,  that  the  learned 
and  austere  Miss  Bellarmine  had 
bestowed  her  heart  on  one  who  had 
never  sought  it  ;  on  one  whom  she 
had  just  learnt  was  the  husband^ — 
and  the  devoted  husband — of  another 


100      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

woman.  So  strange  is  the  feminine 
mind,  that  while  she  had  quailed 
under  the  gossip  which  associated 
Wrath  and  Sophia  in  a  more  than 
charitable  alliance,  her  position  did 
not  seem  quite  desperate.  He 
would  arise  one  day,  assert  his 
higher  self,  and  cast  about  him  for 
chaste  society,  coupled  with  moder- 
ate charms.  But  now — Oh,  heavy 
fate ! — this  could  not  be  ;  he  had 
married  the  daughter  of  Heth. 

Eliza  had  not  the  temperament  of 
those  who  consume  with  idleness 
and  call  it  hopeless  passion  i  her 
lav"e~~was  wholesome  and  honest,  and 
worked  for  good,  not  evil.  She  was 
only  too  well  aware  that  she  had  no 
smallest  claim  on  Wrath's  considera- 
tion ;  he  had  given  her  no  encourage- 
ment— indeed,  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  find  a  man  who  had  less  of 
the  drawing  room  gallant  in  his 
manner  with  any  woman.  So  m_arkgd, 
was  his  deficiency  in  the  elegant  art 
of  disrespectful  attentions  that  many 
fashionable  ladies  declared  they 
could  not  endure  the  rude  monster, 
and  were  he  .not  supposed  to  be 
wonderfully  clever  (although  they 
could  see  nothing  in  his  pictures), 
they  would  never  even  notice  the 
wretch.  Eliza,  therefore,  like  many 
of  us  in  unhappy  circumstances,  had 
only  her  own  foolishness  to  blame, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       IOI 

and  that  she  knew  this,  was  not  the 
least  bitter  of  her  several  pangs. 
But  already  she  had  put  Wrath  out 
of  her  heart  for  all  time. 

"  Never,  never,  never,  never  ! " 
This  was  her  solemn  incantation*,, 
and  lo  !  even  as  she  spoke  the  only 
romance  of  her  dull  life  shivered, 
sobbed,  and  vanished.  She  could 
have  cut  off  her  hand  with  the  same 
unhesitating  precision  had  it  seemed 
necessary.  But  such  triumphs, 
whether  over  the  will  or  the  body, 
are  not  cheaply  won  ;  decisive  mo- 
ments are  not  realized  by  time,  and 
what,  is  done  in  sixty  ticks  of  the 
clock  the  soul  must  remember  or  re- 
gret for  eternity. 

Eliza,  having  mastered  a  great 
situation  in  her  life,  was  only  con- 
scious that  she  felt  much  older  and 
very  tired.  She  bathed  her  eyes, 
ordered  herself  some  tea,  and  sat 
down  to  read  Arckenholz  on  Chris- 
tina of  Sweden — four  portentous 
volumes  which  she  had  chosen  from 
Sir  Benjamin's  library  as  light,  yet 
useful  reading.  And  although  it 
might  have  been  more  dramatic  if 
she  had  indulged  instead  on  a  long 
soliloquy  on  the  hollowness  of  life, 
the  injustice  of  God,  and  so  on,  there 
are  those  who  might  think  it  was 
more  heroic  to  blow  her  despised 
nose  and  study  a  tedious  historian. 


102      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS, 

Half  an  hour  later  when  Eliza 
entered  the  drawing-room  she  dis- 
covered Wrath  and  Lady  Hyde- 
Bassett  playing  chess,  and  Sophia 
(who  hated  games  of  every  descrip- 
tion) engaged  in  a  most  animated 
conversation  with  De  Boys  Mauden. 

No  one  seemed  to  notice  her  en- 
trance except  Margaret,  who  gave 
her  a  swift  smile  and  indicated  with 
her  eyes  a  new  book  on  the  side- 
table,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  That  will 
interest  you  more  than  either  .  of 
these  men."  Elizasighed,  but  drifted 
toward  the  volume.  Literature  was 
still  her  friend. 

"  How  I  should  like  to  paint  her 
as  St.  Martha,"  said  Wrath,  in  a 
low  voice  to  Lady  Hyde-Bassett  ; 
"  she  has  just  that  expression  of 
kind,  yet  terrible  energy  St.  Martha 
must  have  had  !  " 

"  How  a  love  affair  would  im- 
prove her  !  "  said  Margaret  ;  "  every 
woman  should  have  at  least  one 
love  affair." 

"  But  she  is  a  nice  creature,"  said 
Wrath.  "  I  am  very  fond  of  her. 
She  is  a  good  but  inaccessible  angel." 

"  I  am  going  to  marry  her  to 
Claverhouse  Digges,"  said  her  lady- 
ship confidently,  "  I  shall  arrange 
it  all  next  autumn  !  " 

Artistic  chess  is  a  game  beyond 
the  petty  restrictions  of  science. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WHICH  INTRODUCES  A  DOWAGER  AND 
A   PEER. 

HE  Dowager  Countess  of 
Warbeck  awoke  one 
morning  at  eight  o'clock 
and  discovered  that  she 
could  not  fall  asleep  again. 
She  rang  for  her  maid, 
complained  that  she  had  passed  an 
extremely  bad  night  (for  she  usually 
slept  till  nine),  and  arose  from  her 
bed. 

"  Will  your  ladyship  have  break- 
fast earlier  than  usual  ? "  said  the 
maid. 

"  No,"  said  her  ladyship,  who  did 
not  feel  hungry  ;  "  but  tell  Dawson 
to  sound  the  gong  for  prayers  at 
half- past  eight."  She  therefore  put 
her  bad  night  to  excellent  account  by 
reading  her  assembled  household 
three  lessons  instead  of  one.  Would 
that  all  good  Christians  killed  their 
time  with  so  much  profit— to  others! 


104       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

When  the  domestics  had  solemnly 
filed  out  of  the  big  dining  room, 
the  dowager  turned  to  her  grand- 
son— the  one  prop  of  her  declining 
years — with  an  air  of  almost  tragic 
appeal. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  I  must  go 
to  Brentmore  and  see  this  Battle — or 
Cattle — person  ?  " 

"  It  would  look  more  friendly  if 
you  did,"  said  her  grandson,  "  but  I 
have  no  wish  to  urge  anything  of  the 
kind  upon  you,  if  you  feel  unequal 
to  it." 

"  I  never  allow  myself  to  feel  un- 
equal to  a  duty,  Warbeck.  But  the 
position  is  heart-breaking." 

The  position  which  her  ladyship 
found  so  distressing  was  briefly  this: 
she  had  been  the  second  wife  of  the 
fourteenth  earl,  by  whom  she  had 
one  son,  the  father  of  the  present 
Warbeck.  The  late  earl,  however, 
had  had  four  other  sons  by  his  pre- 
vious marriage,  the  youngest  of  whom 
(Edmund)  he  had  disowned  for 
marrying  a  yeoman's  daughter.  Not 
to  detain  the  reader  with  tedious 
particulars  it  will  be  sufficient  to  say 
that  Destiny  had  played  many  sad 
and  unlooked-for  tricks  with  the 
three  elder  sons  and  their  children, 
and  now,  with  the  not  uncommon 
irony  of  human  affairs,  Jane  Shan- 
non, the  daughter  of  the  cast-off 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       105 

Edmund,  was  heiress  to  the  great 
estate.  The  dowager's  grandson 
had  the  peerage,  but  the  cream  of 
the  property — the  famous  "  Drawne 
acres  "  of  that  Anne  whom  we  men- 
tioned in  the  first  chapter — had 
fallen  to  Jane.  No  wonder  the 
countess  could  not  sleep  for  bitter- 
ness of  spirit,  and  no  wonder  War- 
beck  was  leaving  England  that  very 
morning  for  the  Continent. 

"  After  all  these  thousands  of  years, 
to  see  a  Warbeck  reduced  to  pov- 
erty !  "  groaned  the  dowager — "  I 
repeat,  poverty  !  Heversham  Place 
is  the  sort  of  residence  for  a  superior 
cottage  hospital,  and  Graylands  is 
only  fit  to  let  to  some  American,  or 
to  a  Colonial.  You  cannot  possibly 
live  there.  No  Earl  of  Warbeck  has 
had  his  foot  inside  it  since  1550. 
Drawne  estates,  indeed  !  Who  would 
have  heard  of  them  if  Anne  Drawne 
had  not  married  a  Shannon  ?  Who 
fought  for  them,  bled  for  them,  died 
for  them  ?  No  Drawnes,  but  the 
Earls  of  Warbeck.  And  now  this 
Cattle  person  is  to  have  them  all — 
and  Grosvenor  Square,  too  !  "  This 
was  her  magnificent  manner  of  re- 
ferring to  the  town  mansion,  as 
though  only  one  house  in  London 
could  justly  claim  that  address. 
"  Grosvenor  Square,  too,"  she  re- 
peated ;  "  and  you  with  no  roof  over 


106       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

your  head.  Fifteen  thousand  a  year. 
What  is  that  ?  Far  more  than  you 
need  ?  It  is  not  a  question  of  need,  it 
is  a  question  of  what  you  require — 
what  is  decent.  And  as  for  call- 
ing this  Cattle  person,  Lady 

Jane "     Words  failed  her. 

Her  grandson  smiled  patiently  ; 
he  knew  this  harangue  by  heart. 
But  he  never  permitted  himself — 
even  in  solitude — to  fall  below  the 
Stoic  ideal.  He  wore  a  hair-shirt 
under  his  fine  linen,  and  took  his 
rule  of  life  from  Sir  Thomas  More, 
but,  unlike  that  saint,  he  suffered 
religious  doubts.  It  was  said  that 
if  he  had  written  something  touching 
against  Christianity,  or  something 
pretty  about  Moll  Flanders,  he  would 
have  been  a  Superior  Person.  But 
superior  persons  do  not  wear  hair- 
shirts.  There  are  good  men  who 
yet  bear  on  their  countenance  the 
scars  of  many  battles  lost  and  won  ; 
their  knowledge  of  good  is  ever 
shadowed  by  their  knowledge  of 
evil  ;  they  are  all  things  to  all  men 
that  they  may  by  all  means  save 
some.  But  Warbeck  was  not  of 
these.  Sir  Launcelot  may  have  died 
a  holy  man,  but  Sir  Galahad  lived 
holily  also.  It  was  the  latter  knight 
who  had  most  fired  the  young 
peer's  imagination.  His  was  so  self- 
conscious  virtue,  however  ;  at  times 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       107 

he  even  affected  airs  of  worldly 
cynicism  which  reminded  his  grand- 
mother of  the  Miltonic  Archangel 
who  tried  to  explain  heavenly 
mysteries  in  earthly  language — and 
blushed  red  in  the  attempt.  He 
was,  too,  a  powerful  fellow — no 
weakling,  who  made  a  virtue  of 
debility,  but  a  man.  "  What  a  fish 
for  the  church  !  "  said  a  bishop,  who 
had  his  eye  upon  him. 

\Varbeck  had  all  that  longing  of 
a  strong  nature  to  help  someone — 
to  feel  that  he  was  of  some  use  in 
the  world  ;  and  he  would  have 
undergone  any  suffering  or  hardship 
if  he  had  once  persuaded  him- 
self that  his  pain  would  promote 
another's  peace.  But  to  suffer  to 
no  purpose  ;  to  study  for  hours 
with  no  other  desire  than  the  accu- 
mulation of  barren  knowledge  ;  to 
pour  weak  advice  into  unwilling 
ears ;  to  offer  dumb  praise  to  a 
deaf  God  ;  to  spend  his  time,  as  a 
witty  philosopher  has  said,  milking 
a  he  •  —  tiiese  were 

things  he  could  not  do.  He  knew 
that  he  was  considered  promising  by 
those  friends  whose  judgment  he 
could  not  choose  but  value,  and  his 
university  career  had  more  than  ful- 
filled their  expectations.  Yet  the 
self-distrust  was  there — a  haunting 
thought  lest,  in  the  end,  he  would 


I08       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

not  only  disappoint  those  who  were 
dear  to  him  on  earth,  but  that  possi- 
ble God  who  had  a  way  of  asserting 
his  authority  in  the  form  of  a  still, 
small  conscience.  Youth  is  naturally 
impatient,  and  is  not  content  to  re- 
main blind  for  even  three  days  like 
St.  Paul,  nor  can  young  enthusiasm 
believe  readily  that  those  algfl  §p rg* 
who  only  stand  and  wait.  The  im- 
pulse is  to  rush  into  the  fray,  to  kill 
or  be  killed,  but  both  or  either  with- 
out loss  of  time  or  hindrance. 
Vanity,  too,  and  ambition,  no  less 
than  a  zeal  of  serving  the  Almighty 
and  humanity,  may  have  something 
to  do  with  the  fierceness  of  this 
desire,  so  easy  is  it  to  flatter  the  soul 
that  the  glorification  of  self  is  all  to 
the  glory  of  God.  These  and  sim- 
ilar thoughts,  while  they  restrained 
Warbeck  from  any  active  partici- 
pation in  public  affairs,  were  silently 
working  for  good,  strengthening 
his  judgment,  and  giving  him 
some  insight  into  his  own  heart 
and  human  perplexities.  He  would 
know  his  work  in  due  season  ; 
but  the  time  was  not  yet  come. 
Already  he  had  heard  the  whispers 
of  a  calling,  though  the  voice 
was  dim  and  far  off,  not  yet  to 
be  perfectly  known.  So  he  tried  to 
be  patient. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       109 

When  the  Countess  of  Warbeck's 
carriage  drove  up  to  "Up-at- 
Battle's "  that  same  afternoon 
(Brentmore  is  about  three  hours' 
railway  journey  from  London),  Miss 
Caroline  was  what  she  called  turning 
out  the  sitting  room.  Both  she  and 
her  niece  had  dusters  pinned  round 
their  heads,  and  wore  big  aprons. 
Although  the  preceding  night  had 
brought  a  lawyer's  letter  telling  Jane 
of  her  extraordinary  change  of 
fortune,  she  had  not  realized  its  full 
meaning — nor,  indeed,  had  Miss 
Caroline.  They  were  both  simple- 
minded  beings,  and  had  been  brought 
up  to  think  that  their  daily  tasks 
must  be  performed,  even  though  the 
heavens  were  falling.  It  was  the 
day  for  the  parlor,  and  though  Jane 
had  inherited  all  England,  the  room 
had  to  be  swept  and  garnished  by 
someone,  and  as  Jane  was  on  the 
spot,  she  was,  of  course,  the  some- 
one to  do  it. 

Jane  opened  the  door  herself,  and 
found  the  footman  standing — almost 
gingerly,  as  though  he  were  treading 
on  very  doubtful  substance — on  the 
front  step. 

"  Is  Miss  Battle  at  home  ?  "  said 
he,  saying  Battle  with  difficulty,  for 
his  tongue  did  not  take  kindly  to 
trashy  syllables.  (The  dowager 
had  made  up  her  mind  that  she 


110       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

would  first  ask  to  see  the  aunt,  and 
thus  avoid  the  unspeakable  Lady 
Jane  Shannon.  "  Fiddle-de-dee  on 
courtesy  !  "  she  had  told  her  grand- 
son.) 

The  footman  assisted  his  aged 
mistress  out  of  the  carriage  with 
respectful  sympathy. 

"  Have  I  the  pleasure  of  address-. 

ing ?"   began    Lady    Warbeck, 

feeling  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
and  very  much  against  her  will,  that 
it  is  not  the  apron  which  makes  the 
servant. 

"  I  am  Jane,"  said  the  girl  ;  "  will 
you  come  into  the  kitchen,  for  the 
sitting  room  is  full  of  dust  ?  " 

The  countess,  in  spite  of  her 
eccentricities,  was  a  well-bred  woman 
— one  who  had  traveled  much, 
observed  much,  and  read  much.  She 
was,  too,  so  absolutely  sure  of  her 
own  excellent  social  position  that  she 
suffered  none  of  those  fears  so 
common  to  mushroom  nobility,  lest 
she  might  not  be  taken  for  the 
exalted  being  she  was.  She  could,  if 
necessary,  adapt  herself  to  any  scene 
or  any  society  ;  she  did  not  look  less 
a  countess  because  she  sat  in  akitchen. 
Good  breeding  does  not  require  a 
background.  She  always  held,  how- 
ever, that  nervousness  in  her  august 
presence  showed  very  proper  feeling, 
so  she  looked  at  Jane  very  hard  for 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       Ill 

seeming  so  unembarrassed.  Jane 
met  her  look  modestly,  and  with  the 
respect  which  instinct  taught  her  was 
due  to  one  who  was  so  many  years 
her  senior,  but  with  no  more  fear 
than  if  her  great  relative  had  been 
— as  her  ladyship  wrote  to  Warbeck 
— "  a  tabby  cat  on  a  wall." 

Miss  Caroline  appeared  from  the 
scullery,  where  she  had  been  wash- 
ing her  hands,  and  greeted  her 
visitor  with  much  old-fashioned 
grace,  but,  it  must  be  owned,  little 
style.  That  is  to  say,  she  neither 
tittered  nor  stared,  nor  assumed  an 
unnatural  voice,  but  spoke  and  acted 
exactly  as  she  always  did  when  there 
was  no  one  in  sight  and  hearing  save 
Battle  and  Jane. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Lady  Warbeck, 
when  she  had  learnt  that  they  were 
both  quite  well  and  did  not  find  the 
weather  trying — "  I  suppose  you  are 
making  your  preparations  to  come 
up  to  town.  But  Grosvenor  Square 
is  a  little  somber  just  at  present.", 

"  It  must  be  dreadful,"  said  Jane, 
with  much  sympathy,  "so  soon  after 
a  death." 

"Shocking!  "  said  her  ladyship — 
"  Shocking  !  It  has  been  a  matter  of 
national  regret ;  the  Queen  sent  me 
three  telegrams." 

Their  thoughts  were  disjointed 
and  confused  ;  these  three  wonder- 


112       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

ing  women — one  young,  two  simple, 
and  one  neither  young  nor  simple — 
had  all  kind  hearts,  although  educa- 
tion, experience,  and  rank  had  set 
very  different  seals  on  each. 

Miss  Caroline  looked  at  the 
countess,  and  saw  more  than  an 
elderly  lady  in  a  bonnet  and  mantle. 

"  Poor  thing  !  "  she  said,  and  her 
honest  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Lady  Warbeck  did  not  know  how 
to  explain  that  by  no  possible  effort 
of  her  imagination  could  she  think 
of  herself  as  a  Thing.  So  she  pre- 
tended not  to  hear. 

"  I  cannot  yet  trust  myself  to  speak 
of  these  painful  events,"  she  went 
on.  "  I  hope  I  am  resigned.  '  Man 

that  is  born  of  woman '  It  is 

not  for  us  to  question  the  inscrutable 
decrees  of  Providence."  Then  she 
turned  to  Jane.  "  It  would  give  me 
much  pleasure  if  you  would  spend  a 
week  or  so  with  me,  and  I  think,  in 
the  peculiar  circumstances,  it  would 
be  the  most  proper  course  to  pursue." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Miss  Caro- 
line. "  I  have  been  worrying  ever 
since  last  night — when  we  heard — 
because  I  knew  no  one  who  could 
really  advise  her  and  tell  her  just 
what  to  do.  Girls  are  so  thought- 
less." 

"  So  much  depends  on  one's  bring- 
ing up,"  murmured  her  ladyship. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       113 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  looking  forward 
with  immense  delight  to  your  future 
life,  and  your  first  season,  and  your 
new  frocks,  and  so  on  !  "  (The 
dowager  was  most  serious  when  she 
seemed  flippant.) 

Jane  had  all  a  girl's  love  for 
beautiful  clothes,  and  already  she 
had  certainly  dreamt  of  a  heavenly 
gown,  soft-hued,  with  straight  back 
seams  and  a  train.  She  had  also 
designed  a  black  silk  dolman  for 
her  aunt  Caroline.  She  therefore 
blushed  a  little  at  Lady  Warbeck's 
question,  and  owned  that  she  had 
thought  of  ordering  a  new  dress. 

"  Can  you  return  with  me  to- 
morrow ?  "  said  Lady  Warbeck,  ven- 
turing a  smile  ;  "  there  are  a  great 
many  tiresome  legal  matters  to  go 
through,  but  our  man  of  business — 
he  will  be  yours  as  well  now,"  she 
added,  with  a  sigh — the  sigh  was 
absolutely  necessary — "  is  most  con- 
siderate. Everything,  no  doubt, 
will  adjust  itself  in  the  most  satis- 
factory manner." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  began  to 
see  possibilities  as  many  and  great 
and  tall  as  the  Anakims.  War- 
beck,  happily,  was  still  unmarried. 
She  had  decided  that  Jane  only 
needed  to  have  her  hair  done  prop- 
erly, and  to  be  generally  over- 
hauled by  a  good  maid.  For  the 


114       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

rest,  she  was  even  pleasing  ;  she 
was  uncommon,  and  uncommon  girls 
were  in  demand  ;  that  was  why 
those  Americans  married  so  well. 

"  You  must  keep  your  delightful 
country  ideas,"  she  said  pleasantly, 
remembering  Lord  Warbeck's  love 
of  the  unaffected.  "  I  hope  London 
will  not  make  you  cynical..  Men 
hate  cynical  girls." 

"Why  should  London  change 
her?  "said  Miss  Caroline,  wonder- 
ing whether  "  cynical "  was  a  new 
epidemic  ;  something  of  an  asth- 
matic nature. 

"  Well,  I  hardly  know  how  to  ex- 
plain," said  the  countess.  "  It  is 
one  of  those  things  one  takes  for 
granted." 

Miss  Caroline  looked  anxiously  at 
Jane.  Everything  in  the  nature  of 
change  alarmed  her. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  said  at  last, 
"  that  London  will  be  good  for 
Jane  ?  " 

"  London  is  very  healthy,"  said 
Lady  Warbeck.  "  My  doctor  tells 
me  that  even  the  fogs  are  whole- 
some— if  your  lungs  can  stand 
them." 

"  It  is  not  the  fogs  I  fear,"  said 
Miss  Caroline,  "it's  the  folk." 

"  The  folk  ?"  said  Lady  Warbeck, 
"the /<?/£?  I  understand.  I  know 
very  little  about  them.  They  keep 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       115 

in  the  East  End.  Once  or  twice 
my  dear  stepson  lent  them  Gros- 
venor  Square  for  a  meeting.  But 
we  were  all  out  of  town  at  the 
time." 

"  Aunt  Caroline  calls  everybody 
folk,"  explained  Jane,  coloring  in 
her  effort  not  to  laugh. 

"  Really  ?  "  said  the  countess. 
"  Of  course  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
everybody  —  that  is  a  newspaper  vul- 
garism. One  is  either  a  somebody 
or  a  nobody  —  irrespective  of  rank  or 
profession.  The  next  best  thing  to 
a  somebody,  is  a  nobody  in  a  good. 


She  smiled  as  she  spoke,  for  there 
were  few  pleasures  she  enjoyed  so 
much  as  expounding  the  truths  that 
be  —  as  she  understood  them.  Had 
she  been  born  in  a  humbler  sphere 
she  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  the 
principal  of  a  ladies'  college.  Women 
who  possess  what  Mr.  Joe  Gargery 
called  a  master  mind,  like  to  manage 
men,  but  they  like  to  manage  other 
women  still  better  ;  it  is  a  greater 
triumph  from  an  artistic  point  of 
view.  Lady  Warbeck  promised  her- 
self unalloyed  joy  in  directing  the 
unsophisticated  being  Heaven  had 
dropped  in  her  way. 

She  had  to  endure  several  pangs, 
however,  as  she  drove  to  the  hotel, 
(where  she  was  spending  the  night), 


Il6      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

for  she  could  not  persuade  herself 
that  because  Jane  was  unassuming 
she  was  necessarily  meek.  And 
meekness  in  a  protigt  is  an  essential, 
if  one  is  to  be  a  patroness  with  any 
degree  of  comfort  or  satisfaction. 
The  dowager  was  by  nature  a  kind 
woman.  If  she  was  approached  with 
what  she  considered  proper  respect, 
she  was  often  found  even  heroic.  She 
would  put  herself  out  to  do  amiable 
things  ;  she  arranged  meetings  be- 
tween people  who  wanted  or  were 
wanted  to  make  each  other's  ac- 
quaintance; she  found  berths  for 
younger  sons  ;  she  assisted  mothers 
with  their  daughters ;  she  begged 
unscrupulously  from  the  rich  ;  she 
pushed  young  talent  (she  encouraged 
all  the  arts)  ;  she  recommended 
governesses,  and  dressmakers,  and 
orphan  homes,  and  hospitals,  and 
hotels,  and  deserving  cases — indeed, 
to  sum  up  her  virtues  in  a  sentence, 
she  never  missed  an  opportunity  of 
doing  something  to  her  credit.  And 
now  she  had  taken  a  fancy  to  Jane 
— which  was  the  highest  possible 
credit  to  both  of  them.  For  her 
ladyship  had  good  taste  and  was  not 
easily  satisfied. 

"  The  child  is  neither  good  form 
nor  bad,"  she  wrote  to  Warbeck. 
"  She  is  no  form  at  all,  and  would  be 
called  original,  (I  do  not  mean  that 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       117 

she,  swears  like  Lady  Buntynge.) 
She  is  very  innocent,  and  has,  I 
assume,  no  accomplishments.  But 
really,  dear,  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  is  an  advantage.  Nowadays 
everyone  wants  to  perform  and  no  one 
will  listen,  and  a  nice  quiet  girl  who 
can  merely  appreciate  would  be  much 
sought  after.  She  must  take  up 
some  serious  interest,  and  I  shall 
advise  Greek — it  is  better  than  phil- 
anthropy, because  it  does  not  let  one 
in  for  bazaars.  I  shall  also  urge  the 
engagement  of  a  governess-com- 
panion— that  sweet,  lady-like  person 
whom  the  dear  baroness  was  telling 
me  of  would  be  just  the  creature. 
In  appearance  your  cousin  (for  she 
is  your  cousin,  after  all)  is  most 
pleasing,  her  features  and  bearing 
reminded  me  in  the  most  painful 
manner  of  your  grandfather.  (The 
deceased  peer  in  question  had  been 
distinguished  for  his  moral  rather 
than  his  physical  charms.  His  wife, 
however,  may  have  discerned  him 
spiritually.)  "  Imagine  my  boundless 
relief  to  be  so  agreeably  disap- 
pointed. She  is  much  handsomer 
than  Tunborough's  scraggy  Lady 
Marian.  By  the  bye,  I  hear  that 
Lady  Marian's  photographs  are  for 
sale  in  all  the  shop  windows,  and 
that  they  sell  better  than  those  of 
that  Granada  person,  who  has  such 


Jl8       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

fine  legs  and  jumps.  Lady  Dundry 
Marian's  godmother  is  so  upset 
about  it  that  she  has  turned  Roman 
Catholic.  Poor  dear  !  "  (Lady  War- 
beck  divided  the  human  race  into 
dears,  poor  dears,  and  persons.)  "  I 
will  write  more  fully  in  a  day  or  two, 
but  remember  that  I  am  getting  old 
and  cannot  be  with  you  much  longer. 
41  Your  affectionate  grandmother, 
"  A.  WARBECK." 

"  That  little  hint  about  my  age," 
she  thought,  "  will  bring  him  home 
at  the  end  of  the  month." 

And  she  slept  more  soundly  that 
night  than  she  had  for  many  weeks. 

Jane,  on  the  morrow,  when  she 
found  herself  actually  seated  in  the 
train  and  gliding  out  of  the  little 
station  at  Brentmore,  hardly  knew 
whether  to  laugh  or  cry.  She  had 
not  shed  tears  over  her  parting  with 
her  grandfather  and  Aunt  Caroline, 
for  she  was  coming  back  to  see  them 
again  so  shortly,  and  they  had  both 
seemed  in  such  good  spirits  at  her 
wonderful  fortune.  (Fortunately, 
Jane  was  not  hard  to  deceive,  for 
neither  old  Battle  nor  his  daughter 
were  adepts  at  concealing  their 
emotions.)  But  now  she  felt  lonely; 
the  countess  had  warned  her  that 
she  always  slept  when  she  was 
traveling,  and  never  attempted  to 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       119 


talk,  so  Jane  stared  out  of  the  win- 
dow, and  found  her  only  comfort  in 
thinking  that  now  she  was  rich  she 
could  send  De  Boys  anonymous 
bank-notes  and  so  enjoy  the  rare 
distinction  of  helping  a  genius. 
For  she  no  longer  thought  of  him 
as  her  lover  ;  a  very  dear  friend, 
that  was  all,  a  sort  of  relation,  almost 
a  brother — but  more  interesting.  If 
he  ever  married  and  had  children 
she  would  be  their  godmother  and 
try  to  like  his  wife.  She  might  also 
build  him  a  church,  and  in  the  mean- 
time she  would  do  all  she  could  for 
poor  Mr.  O'Nelligan,  the  curate,  who 
had  been  his  tutor. 

When  she  thought  of  herself  she 
was  at  once  both  eager  and  fearful 
to  learn  what  the  Future  would  be  ; 
as  if  there  is  not  always  still  another 
Future — when  one  Future  has  be- 
come a  Past — to  fear  and  yet  rush 
into  !  Her  personal  experience  cf 
the  world  was  slight  to  the  point  of 
nothingness,  but  from  a  long  course 
of  incessant  and  unsystematic  read- 
ing she  had  gathered  such  a  variety 
of  (more  or  less  uncertain)  know- 
ledge, from  metaphysic  to  the  Greek 
drama,  that  she  was,  as  she  told  her 
aunt,  prepared  for  anything.  In 
imagination,  she  had  walked  in 
courts  and  market-places,  in  ances- 
tral halls  and  suburban  villas  ;  poets, 


120       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

scholars,  and  wits  were  her  constant 
companions,  not  to  mention  kings 
and  archbishops  ;  for  one  accus- 
tomed to  such  company,  the  Dowager 
Countess  of  Warbeck,  and  even  a 
row  of  flunkies,  had  no  terror. 
When  she  saw  the  big  drawing-rooms 
at  Queen's  Gate  (the  dowager's 
town  residence)  she  thought  that 
the  kitchen  at  Up-at-Battle's  was 
more  cheerful.  Even  the  piano, 
which  had  ebony  legs  and  was 
elegantly  draped  in  an  Indian  shawl, 
seemed  to  cry  out  for  a  sympathetic 
touch.  Jane  in  her  gray  alpaca  felt 
very  sorry  for  it.  Lady  Warbeck 
had  been  fully  prepared  to  see  her 
trip  over  the  rugs,  slide  off  the  bro- 
caded chairs,  and  dazzled  by  the 
unaccustomed  splendor  of  her  sur- 
•roundings.  It  was  disappointing  in 
some  respects  that  she  did  not,  yet, 
on  the  whole,  satisfactory. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  her  ladyship, 
"  I  suppose  you  would  like  to  see 
Grosvenor  Square  ? " 

"  Any  day  you  think  best,  grand- 
mamma !  "  said  Jane. 

The  dowager  had  told  her  that 
she  preferred  this  mode  of  address. 
But,  as  her  maid  told  the  house- 
keeper, "  Her  lad'ship  was  not  born 
yesterday — she  knew  what  she  was 
about,  bless  you  !  " 

"  Trust  her,"  said  the  housekeeper, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       121 

"  she's  got  the  brains  of  the  whole 
fam'ly  ;  she'll  marry  Lady  Jane  to 
his  lordship — mark  my  words  !  " 

Thus  profanely  do  hirelings  dis- 
cern the  hidden  motives  of  the 
mighty. 


CHAPTER  X. 

IN  WHICH  A  YOUNG  GENTLEMAN 
DEFINES  DUTY  AND  OTHER  UN- 
CERTAINTIES. 

'IVEN  two  young  people,  A 
idleness,  and  a  week,  and  1 
the  sum  total    is    Folly  *J 
add  the  artistic  tempera^ 
ment   and    a  pretty    gift 
_  for  philosophic  discussion 

and  you  get  Sympathy  ;  multiply  by 
a  sound  knowledge  of  the  Classic 
amorists,  and  the  result  is  Romance^ 
De  Boys  had  been  at  The  Cloisters 
one  week  when  he  received  tidings 
of  Jane's  altered  position.  He  felt 
at  once  that  whatever  hopes  he  had 
formed  with  regard  to  their  marriage 
would  now  be  idle,  nay,  more — pre- 
sumptuous. Such  instant  surrender, 
it  may  be,  showed  modesty  and  good 
taste,  but  for  a  lover  he  was,  perhaps, 
resigned  too  soon.  Resignation  is 
an  heroic  virtue,  but  it  best  displays 
its  spirit  after  a  sharp  tussle  with 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       I  23 

despair.  In  this  instance,  however, 
it  seemed  as  though  the  two  giants 
had  merely  yawned  at  each  other. 
Mauden  had  not  the  smallest  doubt 
of  his  great  love  for  Jane,  notwith- 
standing he  wrote  so  seldom  and  a 
cold  tone  had  crept  into  her  replies — 
all  that  sort  of  thing  could  be  put 
right  in  a  single  interview,  when  the 
time  came  for  a  serious  understand- 
ing— or,  at  least,  it  might  have  been 
put  right,  if  she  had  not  inherited 
this  beastly  money — and  the  beastlier 
title.  He  had  already  made  up  his 
mind  not  to  enter  the  Church,  and 
had  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  professorial 
chair.  Professor  Mauden  and  Lady 
Jane  Mauden  did  not,  in  his  opinion, 
sound  well.  By  a  confusion  of  ideas, 
too,  Jane  Shannon  seemed  the  sha- 
dow and  Sophia  Jenyns  the  reality, 
and  while  he  composed  his  pretty 
speeches  to  Jane,  he  rehearsed  them 
(with  appropriate  expression)  to 
Sophia.  It  must  be  remembered,  he 
was  quite  unaware  that  the  actress 
was  Wrath's  wife. 

Wrath  had  begun  his  Madonna, 
and  when  he  was  not  painting,  he 
would  sit  in  rapturous  thought.  The 
Madonna,  too,  not  to  speak  irrever- 
ently, had  Margaret's  nose — and 
Sophia's  nose  had  a  far  finer  shape 
than  Lady  Hyde-Bassett's.  Sophia 
shed  bitter  tears  over  the  agonizing 


124       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

pettiness  of  the  whole  trouble  ;  but, 
in  the  first  place,  she  was  feeling  ill, 
and  secondly,  as  she  told  herself, 
straws  show  which  way  the  wind 
blows.  That  her  husband  made  his 
picture  like  Margaret,  against  his 
will — indeed,  unconsciously — was  a 
significant  and  appalling  fact  ;  his 
ve-ry  St.  Joseph  had  a  look  of  her. 
Yet  Wrath  fondly  imagined  that  his 
work  was  purely  ideal,  flatly  opposed 
to  realism,  all  composed  from  the 
unearthly  material  of  his  religious 
instinct.  These  reflections  and  a 
constant  headache  were  as  frank  in 
their  villainy  as  the  stage  direction — 
*•  Enter,  attendant,  with  two  mur- 
derers." No  creatures  for  compro- 
mise, these  ! 

Sophia  was  strolling  in  the  garden 
with  De  Boys  one  afternoon,  and 
found  herself  thinking  that  love  was 
a  mistake — it  made  one  too  unhappy  ; 
friendship,  on  the  other  hand  was 
soothing  and  agreeable.  " 

"  Social  conventions,"  De  Boys 
was  saying,  "  are  the  greatest  nui- 
sance. I  would  banish  them  with 
a  fiery  sword.  There  were  none 
such  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  !  " 

"  Ah,  but  in  the  Garden  of  Eden 
there  was  only  one  woman  !  "  sighed 
Sophia. 

"Why,"  he  said,  in  an  injured 
voice,  "do  you  always  pretend  to  be 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       125 

so  cynical  ?  I  do  not  see  why  we 
cannot  go  back  to — to  the  sort  of 
existence — I  mean  the  idyllic  and 
perfect  state  of  Adam  and  Eve 
before  the  Fall.  Merely  viewed  as  a 
philosophical  experience  it  might  at 
least  be  attempted.  If  it  proved 
successful,  it  would  encourage 
others " 

"  But  if  it  failed "  said  Sophia. 

He  cleared  his  throat.  "  You 
must  let  me  translate  for  you  some 
tremendous  passages  from  the 
'  Phaedrus,'  "  he  replied.  "  Plato 
deals  with  the  whole  question  as 
only  a  poet  can — for  he  was  a  poet. 
And  I  think  you  will  say  with  me 
that  it  is  a  poet's  subject ;  his  philos- 
ophy is  not  of  this  world,  but  is,  as 
it  were,  a  figure  of  the  true,  and 
musical,  as  is  Apollo's  lute.  I  can- 
not agree  with  Browning  when  he 
speaks  of — 

"  The  heroic  for  earth  too  hard, 
The  passion  that  left  the  world  to  lose  itself 
in  the  sky. 

Why  give  so  much  consolation  to 
those  who  have  failed  to  realize  their 
ideals — who  have  merely  aspired,  and 
utter  no  word  of  praise  to  those  who 
have  actually  attained  to  higher 
things  ?  All  the  teaching  of  the 
present  day  seems  to  assume  that 
no  man  or  woman  ever  yet  accom- 


126       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

plished  a  purpose,  or  thoroughly 
believed  in  anything  or  anybody  !  " 
It  is  so  delightful  to  be  young,  and 
long  winded,  and  able  to  believe,  at 
least,  in  one's  self  !  "  A  hero  nowa- 
days," he  went  on,  "  need  not  fight  ; 
he  has  only  to  say  he  would  like  to 
fight  if  he  could  !  " 

"  You  have  so  much  moral  cour- 
age," said  Sophia,  "  and  I  have 
none  !  " 

"  If  I  may  say  so,  I  think  you  are 
the  most  courageous  woman  I  have 
ever  met.  You  have  not  only  the 
power  to  will — but  to  do." 

"  I  fear  you  are  mistaken.  I  have 
too  much  do  and  too  little  will — if 
you  understand  me." 

"  A  little  impulsive  perhaps." 

"  I  can  only  resist  one  impulse  by 
yielding  to  another,"  said  Sophia. 
"  1  know  my  own  character  too  well. 
I  need  a  restraining  force." 

De  Boys  drew  himself  up,  and 
would  have  made  a  fine  allegorical 
study  for  any  of  the  heroic  virtues. 

"You,"  he  said,  "may  need  a  re- 
straining force  in  the  same  way  that 
a  highly  poetic  imagination  requires 
discipline ;  noble  desires  and  fine 
thoughts  must  not  be  wasted  on  thfft 
'  chartered  libertine,'  the  air."  The 
breeze"  srirreo! a  maddening  curl 
which  fluttered  on  the  nape  of 
Sophia's  neck,  and  the  young  man 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       127 

sighed.  So  far,  air  had  the  advan- 
tage of  philosophy. 

"  A  woman  like  you,"  he  said,  "  so 
extraordinarily  gifted — I  speak  quite 
impersonally — might  do  so  much  by 
refusing  to  accept  the  low  standard 
of  existing  morality.  We  want  some 
beautiful  and  witty  saint  :  what 
Wrath  might  call  'a  saint  in  draw- 
ing.' It  is  such  a  cruel  wrong  to 
give  people  the  idea  that  only  sinners 
are  amusing  or  good-looking.  There 
is  sublime  beauty,  no  doubt,  in  the 
mere  expression  of  a  pure-minded 
being  ;  but  when  a  fine  spirit  is  set 
in  fair  material,  and  she  can  flavor 
her  chaste  conversation  with  Attic 
salt,  her  influence  must  undoubtedly 
cover  a  larger  field  than  if  she  looked 
dowdy  and  talked  banalities.  And,  I 
take  it,  a  woman  who  did  not  accept 
life  in  its  vanity,  would  find  no  pos- 
sible pleasure  in  the  adornment  of 
her  own  person  ;  she  would  simply 
regard  it  as  a  duty  which  she  owed 
to  society — one  which,  I  think,  would 
come  under  the  head  of  honoring  the 
king !  " 

Sophia  felt  her  enthusiasm  rising 
toward  sainthood  :  De  Boys  had  a 
perfectly  charming  view  of  moral 
obligations. 

"You  think,"  she  quavered,  "  it  is 
a  duty  to  try — and  look — decent !  " 
Two  hours  and  a  half  spent  over  her 


128      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

toilette  that  morning  needed  some 
slight  justification. 

De  Boys'eyes  wandered  over  her 
face  and  figure. 

"  Unquestionably,"  he  said,  with 
what  resembled,  but  was  not,  calm- 
ness ;  "  unquestionably  a  duty." 

"  How,"  said  Sophia,  "  should  one 
begin  if  one  wished  to  rebel  against 
existing  low  standards  of  morality  ?  " 

"  By  the  silent  but  convincing  force 
of  example,"  he  replied — "  by  your 
actions." 

"What  kind  of  actions?"  she 
asked.  "You  know — I  have — "  she 
blushed — "a  soup  kitchen." 

Delicious  simpleton  !  and  with  it 
all,  a  genius  ! 

"  Soup  kitchens,"  he  said  gravely, 
"are  excellent  ;  but,  morally  speak- 
ing, they  do  not  convey  anything 
but  soup." 

Their  eyes  met,  and  the  result  was 
a  duet  in  laughter. 

"  You  shall  not  make  fun  of  me," 
she  said  at  last. 

"  Make  fun  of  you  !  As  if  I  could 
make  fun  of  you  !  " 

"  I  often  laugh  at  myself,"  she 
said.  "  I  am  always  ridiculous  ; 
even  when  I  am  unhappy  I  am  per- 
fectly absurd.  All  my  tragedy  is  in 
my  acting;  my  real  life  is  a  bur- 
lesque." 

"  But  when  are  you  unhappy  ? " 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       129 

he  said,  in  a  voice  of  unfeigned  con- 
cern, and  with  a  fierce  glance  at  the 
imaginary  offender.  "  When  are 
you  unhappy  ?  " 

"  Often,"  said  Sophia  ;  "  in  fact, 
always.  I  am  so  tired  of  being 
treated  like  a  buffoon  !  Even  Wrath 
himself — even  Wrath,  my  first  and 
dearest  friend "  she  paused. 

"  Of  course,"  said  De  Boys,  swal- 
lowing envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  all 
uncharitableness  at  one  gulp,  "  he 
must  be  your  dearest  friend." 

"  All  my  life,"  she  faltered — "  all 
my  life — my  friend  ;  but  even  he 
tells  me  that  I  act  well  only  because 
I  must.  And  is  not  that  in  itself 
sufficient  to  prove  that  he  regards 
me  as  an  irresponsible  being — a 
marionette  with  a  faculty  of  speech  ? 
I  know  my  words  are  often  very 
silly,  but  my  thoughts  are  terribly 
serious.  Oh,  if  he  knew  how  seri- 
ous !  "  • 

De  Boys  himself  was  surprised  at 
her  change  of  manner — although  it 
had  never  occurred  to  him  that  she 
was  absolutely  flippant.  He  had 
explained  away  her  whimsicalities 
and  nonsense  as  the  vagaries  of 
genius.  What  would  have  looked 
like  affectation  in  a  woman  of  com- 
monplace attainments,  seemed,  at 
least,  pardonable  in  one  who  had  so 
many  atoning  qualities ;  she  was 


130      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

not,  however,  attractive  because  of 
her  foolishness,  but  in  spite  of  it. 
Young  and  inexperienced  as  Mauden 
was,  he  felt  all  this  no  less  than  the 
middle-aged  Wrath,  who  had  loved 
Sophia  too  long,  and  loved  her  too 
deeply,  not  to  love  also  with  wisdom. 
The  difference  between  these  two 
men — the  one  who  loved  her  and  the 
one  who  thought  he  loved  her — was 
shown  in  the  fact  that,  while  Wrath 
helped  her,  as  delicately  as  he  could, 
to  overcome  her  faults,  Mauden  en- 
couraged them.  Yet  such  is  the  con- 
trariety between  effects  and  inten- 
tions, that  neither  Wrath  nor  Mauden, 
nor,  be  it  said,  any  human  creature, 
could  give  Sophia  the  one  thing 
needful — peace  of  heart.  She  chafed 
alike  under  praise  or  blame  ;  no  one 
understood  her,  no  one  knew  what 
she  really  meant  or  really  wanted  ; 
even  her  nearest,  best,  and  dearest 
misconstrued  her  ten  times  a  day. 

"  If  he  only  knew,"  she  repeated, 
"  how  serious  I  am  !  " 

"You  must  remember,"  said  Mau- 
den, "  there  are  a  great  many  years 
between  you  ;  Wrath  probably  re- 
gards you  still  as  a  small  child.  It 
was  and  is  exactly  the  same  in  my 
own  home  :  my  uncle — the  kindest 
and  most  generous  man  in  the  world 
— never  can  understand  that  my 
days  for  leading-strings  are  past." 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       131 

Sophia  caught  her  breath ;  De 
Boys  had  plucked  up  the  very  root 
of  the  matter.  She  was  no  com- 
panion for  Wrath  ;  he  thought  her 
too  young — perhaps  she  wearied 
him — just  as  children  occasionally 
tire  even  the  fondest  of»their  rela- 
tives. It  was  only  natural  that  he 
should  find  Margaret  Hyde-Bassett's 
society  so  pleasant  ;  they  were  nearer 
in  years,  they  had  both  lost  their 
sensitiveness  to  mere  impressions, 
and  were  now  rather  re-coloring  their 
old  experiences  than  gaining  fresh 
ones. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that  before," 
she  said,  "  but  now  you  speak  of  it, 
I  see  the  reasonableness  of  the  idea. 
It  explains  everything." 

"  But,"  said  De  Boys,  "  we  are 
both  young ;  we  can  never  seem 
children  to  each  other.  We  both 
know  that  we  are  responsible  beings, 
that  we  are  masters  of  our  fate  ;  that 
we  are  under  the  law  of  liberty." 

"  Masters  of  our  fate,"  repeated 
Sophia  ;  "  do  you  believe  that  ? " 

"  How  can  I  disbelieve  it,"  he  said, 
"  when  I  live  and  have  the  evidence 
of  each  day  to  convince  me." 

Sophia  turned  her  face  toward  him. 
"  Tell  me,"  she  said,  "  what  I  must 
do.  I  am  tired  of  thinking.  The 
world  seems  so  unreal  sometimes, 
and  words  and  people  and  things 


132      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

lose  all  meaning.  But  I  could  be 
obedient,  I  could  do  what  I  was  told, 
and  I  think — I  could  be  happy  that 
way.  I  want  to  escape  from  my  own 
commands  ;  I — I  am  too  merciless  a 
tyrant." 

"Sophia  !  "said  Mauden.  He  had 
never  called  her  Sophia  before  ;  it 
was  a  great  step  for  him,  but  she 
was  too  preoccupied  to  notice'  it. 
"  Sophia,"  he  said  again,  "  can  we 
not  both  be  obedient  to  our  best 
instincts  ?  can  we  not  follow  them — 
together  ? " 

"What  are  they?"  said  Sophia; 
"  and  can  we  trust  them  ?  " 

Before  he  could  reply  the  sound  of 
Wrath's  deep,  rare  laughter  came 
through  the  windows  which  opened 
on  the  lawn.  Was  it  thus  that 
Madonnas  were  painted  ? 

"Finish,"  said  Sophia,  turning 
pale — "finish  what  you  were  going 
to  say — when  he  laughed." 

"I* think  I  could  write  it  better," 
said  De  Boys. 

"  Do  you,  too,  write  ? "  she  said. 
"  A — a  friend  of  mine  had — a  friend 
who  never  told  her  anything,  but  he 
wrote  beautiful  letters — oh,  such  let- 
ters !  and  then  he  would  walk  up 
and  down  the  room  while  she  read 
them."  Her  head  drooped  and  her 
voice  trembled  ;  these  reminiscences 
were  heart-breaking.  "But,"  she 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       133- 

said,  looking  up,  "you  are  not  at  all 
like  the  man  who  did  that ;  you  are 
quite — quite  different.  I  should 
have  thought  you  could  have  spoken 
out." 

"  I  can,"  cried  De  Boys,  on  his 
mettle — "  I  can !  I  will,  now  that 
you  have  told  me — I  may." 

"  Of  course  you  may,"  said  Sophia, 
"  because  my  knowledge  of  you 
assures  me  that  you  will  not  say  any- 
thing— silly.  I  mean  something 
which  ought  not  to  be  said — or 
written." 

"  Friendship,"  said  De  Boys — 
"  perfect  friendship  casteth  out  fear. 
Between  friends  there  ought  to  be 
no  dread  of  giving  offense." 

"  N — no  !  "  said  Sophia  ;  "  but  at 
the  same  time  we  must  not  think  that 
our  friends  are  the  only  people  we 
can  treat  rudely,  and  with  unkind- 
ness." 

"  Unkindness  !  "  said  De  Boys. 
"  How  can  you  so  misunderstand 
me!" 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  you,"  she 
said.  "  At  that  moment  I  had  other 
friends  in  mymind-^women  ft  lends." 

This  was  only  a  half  truth,  and  it 
flashed  across  her  mind  that  it  was 
not  easy  to  be  saintly  even  in  the 
course  of  a  most  innocent  conversa- 
tion ;  one  could  lie  in  all  circum- 
stances and  for  the  most  trivial 


134      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

reason — indeed,  for  no  reason  in  the 
world. 

"  The  ideal  union,"  began  De 
Boys — "  the  union  we  have  already 
•discussed " 

"  The  Before-the-Fall  ideal,"  she 
said  quickly.  "  1  know." 

"  Why  could  not  we — would  you 
be  willing — I  should  say — would  you 
mind  very  much — being  called  my 
wife  ?" 

"  My  dear  De  Boys  !  "  she  mur- 
mured, with  maternal  pity  and  affec- 
tion— "  My  dear  De  Boys  " — and  she 
looked  at  him,  smiling  helplessly — 
"  My  dear  De  Boys  !  " 

Anything  more  chilling  to  lover- 
like  aspirations  is  not  to  be  imagined. 
Long  years  afterward  the  echo  of 
that  motherly  "  My  dear  De  Boys  !  " 
could  bring  an  east  wind  on  the 
warmest  day. 

"It  is  my  turn,"  he  said  hotly, 
"  to  be  treated  like  a  buffoon  when  I 
am  serious !  " 

"  Don't  say  that,"  said  Sophia  ; 
"  but — but  the  idea  startled  me  !  " 

"Is  that  all?"  he  said  eagerly; 
"  because,  in  that  case,  you  might 
become  accustomed  to  it." 

"  First,"  she  murmured  at  last, 
"  let  us  clearly  understand  what  the 
idea  is." 

"  We  should  remain,  just  as  we 
are — friends,"  said  the  young  man, 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       135 

"  only  truer  friends  than  the  world 
understands  by  the  term  ;  but,  as  a 
concession  to  propriety,  we  would  go 
through  the  ceremony  of  marriage. 
It — it  is  rather  difficult  to  explain  in 
detail  ;  the  ideal  never  does  lend 
itself  to  definition  !  " 

"  There  would  be  no  love-mak- 
ing— nothing  silly,"  said  Sophia, 
"  nothing  commonplace,  and  ridic- 
ulous, and  domestic  !  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Then,"  said  the  .lady,  "  suppose 
we  tried  it  for  a  little  before  we  act- 
ually bound  ourselves  by  any  reli- 
gious and  legal  form  ?  " 

He  saw  immediately  the  countless 
advantages  of  this  suggestion,  and, 
as  they  unrolled  themselves  he  grew 
pale  at  the  disadvantages  of  his  first 
plan.  It  is  the  memory  of  peril  and 
not  peril  itself  which  is  so  appalling. 
De  Boys  looked  back  at  the  last  ten 
minutes  as  he  might  have  glanced  at 
a  thunderbolt  which  had  missed  him 
by  an  inch. 

"  We  must,  of  course,  do  nothing  \ 
rash,"  he  said;  "because  rashness  ' 
would  mar  the  harmony  of  the  action.  I 
To  do" things  decently  and  in  order  / 
is  the  very  rhythm  of  existence."  / 

"  I  will  think  it  well  over,"  said 
Sophia,  "and  let  you  know  my 
decision  on  Monday  ;  but  until  then 
do  not  refer  again  to  the  subject.  If 


136       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

we  talk,  it   must  be  as  though   this 
conversation  had  never  taken  place." 

"  But  on  Monday,"  said  Be  Boys, 
"  I  must  leave." 

"  Then,"  said  Sophia  calmly,  "  I 
will  tell  you  in  good  time,  so  that 
you  may  make  the  necessary  prepar- 
ations— whether  I  have  decided  to 
accompany  you." 

"But,"  he  stammered,  "  might  not 
that  look  odd  ?  Your  guardian " 

"  I  am  not  Wrath's  ward,"  she 
said  ;  "  I  am  my  own  mistress. 
Leave  everything  to  me." 

A  long  silence  followed ;  they 
sauntered,  one  of  them  quite  blindly, 
toward  the  house. 

"  I  fancy,"  he  said,  "  I  'heard  the 
dressing  gong." 

Sophia  thought,  that  although  he 
was  a  better  conversationalist  than 
Wrath  he  did  not  wear  so  well  ;  two 
hours  seemed  to  exhaust  the  fund  of 
his  ideas.     Now  Wrath  could  main-X 
tain  an  interesting  silence  from  year's  j 
end  to  year's  end.  ^ 

"  Oh  !  the  difference  of  man  and 
man  !  "  Gentler  ladies  than  Goneril 
have  had  occasion  to  utter  the  same 
lamentation. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

IN  WHICH  ANOTHER  YOUNG  GENTLE- 
MAN    DEFINES   DUTY. 
I 

i  HE  Dowager  Countess  of 
Warbeck  found  Jane  more 
interesting  each  day  ;  she 
was  so  quiet  in  manner, 
so  sweet  -  tempered,  so 
thoughtful,  so  sensible — 
in  fact,  the  dowager's  letters  to  her 
dear  friends,  the  Marchioness  of 
Dayme  and  the  Lady  Dundry,  were 
always  overweight  during  that 
period.  Her  notes  to  her  grandson, 
however,  were  brief,  telling  much  of 
her  own  ill-health  and  very  little  of 
Jane.  The  countess  never  made 
the  fatal  mistake  of  supposing  that 
the  rest  of  mankind  were  fools,  and 
she  alone  had  wisdom  ;  she  gave 
every  creature  credit  for  a  certain 
amount  of  perception  and  a  great 
deal  of  cunning.  For  this  reason 
her  machinations  usually  proved 
successful.  She  was  extremelv  care- 


138       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

ful  not  to  drop  a  word  which  might 
excite  Warbeck's  suspicion  of  her 
darling  scheme  ;  she  even  wrote  him 
a  glowing  account  of  a  new  debutante, 
who,  she  declared,  had  exactly-  the 
kind  of  beauty  he  admired.  Her 
heart  swelled  with  a  diplomatist's 
pride  when  she  received  a  telegram 
from  the  young  peer  announcing  his 
sudden  return  to  England.  "  Let 
him  once  see  Jane,"  she  thought, 
"  and  the  rest  is  inevitable." 

In  the  meantime,  his  portrait 
(painted  by  Wrath,  the  Academician) 
was  placed  in  a  better  light,  and 
Jane  was  occasionally  reminded  that 
although  the  work  in  question  was 
an  excellent  likeness,  it  did  not  do 
the  original  full  justice.  "  No  artist," 
said  the  dowager,  "  could  ever 
catch  his  smile  !  " 

"  He  is  certainly  very  handsome," 
said  Jane.  "  Grandfather's  nephew," 
she  added,  after  a  little  pause,  "  is 
also  handsome.  The  one,  you  know, 
who  is  so  clever  and  who  is  now  at 
Oxford.  Would  you  like  to  see  his 
photograph  ? " 

"  I  would,"  said  her  ladyship  dryly. 
To  her  horror,  Jane  unfastened  her 
gown  at  the  throat  and  displayed  a 
small  locket  and  chain.  She  opened 
the  locket  and  handed  it,  with  a 
blush,  to  her  grandmamma. 

"Not  a  bad-looking  person — for 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       139 

his  kind,"  said  the  dowager,  "not  at 
all  bad-looking.  He  has  a  look  of 
Spence."  (Spence  was  the  head 
footman.)  "  I  am  sure  he  is  most 
worthy.  But  I  would  not  wear  him 
in  a  locket  !  It  might  give  stupid 
people  the  idea  that  you  were  in  love 
with  him — and  there  are  so  many 
stupid  people  !  Besides,  if  it  came 
to  his  ears  he  might  think  the  same 
thing.  Young  men  are  so  conceited." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Jane,  "  I  should   not\ 
like  him  to  think  that.     I — I  do  not  \ 
see   how   he  could.      He — he   isn't  j 
conceited,  and — and  he  is  not  a  bity 
like  Spence  !  "  S 

"My  dear,"  said  her  ladyship, 
"what  would  you  say  yourself,  if 
you  saw  a  young  girl  wearing  a 
man's  photograph  on  her  neck  !  It 
is  not  maidenly — in  fact,  with  no 
desire  to  hurt  your  feelings,  it  is  im- 
modest. I  appreciate  your  childish 
and  innocent  sentiment  in  the  mat- 
ter— affection  and  gratitude  are 
always  charming,  even  when  sadly 
misplaced  ;  but  you  are  no  longer  a 
little  girl  running  wild  in  the  fields. 
The  only  person  you  could  wear  in 
that  fashion  would  be  your  husband, 
or,  in  conceivable  circumstances, 
your  future  husband.  But  as  you 
have  neither  one  or  the  other  at 
present,  it  is  more  seemly  that  your 
neck  should  be  unfettered.  Enjoy 


140       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

your  liberty  while  you  may."  She 
smiled  her  sweetest  —  and  the 
dowager  could  smile  like  an  angel 
when  she  chose — but  Jane  sighed. 
The  chain,  however,  and  the  photo- 
graph were  slipped  into  her  pocket ; 
she  could  not  be  immodest,  and,  no 
doubt,  her  grandmamma  had  spoken 
sound  sense. 

"  Play  me  that  exquisite  Presto" 
said  the  countess.  "  I  dote  on 
Beethoven  when  he  escapes  from 
that  terrible  diddledy  -  diddledy  - 
diddledy  in  the  bass.  The  Brent- 
more  person  really  taught  you  ex- 
tremely well.  Take  it  at  a  good 
pace." 

One  has  not  much  time  to  muse  on 
the  absent  if  one  is  playing  a  Presto, 
and  an  active  lady  marks  the  time 
with  her  cane. 

Warbeck  was  expected  to  luncheon 
that  same  day,  and  the  countess  had 
given  orders  that  he  was  to  be  shown 
into  the  library,  as  she  wished  a  few 
moments'  private  conversation  with 
him.  Jane,  therefore,  was  halfway 
through  the  Presto  when  his  lord- 
ship's arrival  was  announced. 

"  Don't  stop  playing,  my  dear," 
said  the  dowager.  "  I  so  like  to 
hear  music  in  the  distance." 

Then  she  went  down  to  her  grand- 
son. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       141 

The  young  man  came  forward  as 
she  entered  the  room,  and  seemed 
surprised,  delighted,  and  relieved  to 
see  her  walking. 

"  You  must  be  much  better,"  he 
said  ;  "  I  have  been  so  anxious  about 
you.  I  hardly  dared  hope  that  you 
were  even  on  the  sofa  !  " 

"  I  am  almost  myself,  dear,"  said 
his  grandmother.  "I  began  to 
improve  from  the  instant  I  re- 
ceived your  telegram.  Sir  Claretie 
says  he  considers  my  recovery  a 
miracle.  But  you  are  not  looking 
well." 

He  was  thinner  and  paler  than  he 
had  been  a  fortnight  since,  and  had, 
in  some  way,  a  new  expression,  an 
even  greater  seriousness  of  manner. 

"  You  have  something  on  your 
mind,"  said  her  ladyship  suddenly  ; 
"you  are  going  to  tell  me  that  you 
are  engaged  !  " 

Warbeck  smiled,  but  shook  his 
head.  "  Cherchez  la  femme  is  such 
stale  doctrine,"  he  said. 

"  There  is  no  newer  doctrine  for 
the  old  Adam,"  said  the  dowager  ; 
"  but  if  there  is  no  woman  in  your 
news,  then  it  has  something  to  do 
with  religion.  Do  not  say  that  you 
have  been  reading  Hooker,  and 
Laud,  and  the  rest  of  them,  and 
have  become  High  Church  !  " 

"  I  read   Hooker  and   Laud  long 


142       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

ago," he  said,  "but  I  am  not  a  High 
Churchman." 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  you  are  a 
Higher  Pantheist.  Oh,  dear  !  " 

"  To  save  you  further  suspense,"  he 
said,  "  I  am  still — nothing.  But 
I  have  joined  a  Celibate  Brother- 
hood." 

The  countess  did  not  look 
shocked,  but  her  aspect  was  certainly 
grave. 

"  It  means,  of  course,  the  end  of 
everything — from  an  ambitious  point 
of  view,"  she  said  slowly. 

"  I  think,"  said  Warbeck,  "  it 
means  the  beginning  of  everything — 
from  the  only  point  of  view  worth 
considering." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  her  ladyship — 
"  quite  so.  But  there  is  neither 
wisdom  nor  virtue  in  renouncing 
marriage  unless  you  fully  realize 
what  marriage  is  and  what  it  has  to 
offer.  In  my  opinion  it  is  far  more 
difficult  to  be  a  married  saint  than 
a  saint  in  the  cloisters ;  Bishop 
Taylor  has  pointed  this  out  with 
much  eloquence.  Do  you  think  you 
will  never  wish  to  marry  ? " 

Warbeck  laughed  with  the  buoy- 
ancy of  a  mortal  who  has  never 
loved.  Before  he  could  reply,  the 
countess  checked  him. 

"  I  see,"  she  said,  "  you  know 
nothing  about  it.  I  should  feel 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       143 

better  satisfied  if  I  knew  that  you 
had  had  some  romantic  experience. 
Because  if  it  does  not  come  early — 
it  will  come  late.  And  then  what 
trouble  !  I  have  seen  such  un- 
happiness  come  of  people  assuming 
that  because  they  never  have  cared 
for  anyone,  they  never  will." 

"  You  see,"  said  Warbeck  serenely, 
"  if  a  man  knows  that  he  is  under  a 
vow  of  celibacy  the  question  of  sex 
becomes  a  dead  letter.  A  woman  is 
merely  an  individual.  The  effect  of 
a  vow  is  almost  miraculous." 

The  countess  groaned.  "  The 
great  thing,"  she  said,  "  is  to  be 
saved  from  one's  self,  and  one's  self  so 
easily  passes  for  a  great  conviction  ! 
See  how  many  young  people  gabble 
off  the  marriage  vows  ;  and  their 
effect  is  by  no  means  miracu- 
lous." 

"  Well,"  said  Warbeck  naively, 
"  when  you  consider  what  a  large 
proportion  of  humanity  takes  them, 
youlmust  admit  that,  on  the  whole, 
they  observe  them  very  faithfully. 
Society  is  so  small  and  the  world  is 
so  large,  one  must  look  at  the  mar- 
riages of  the  world." 

"  This  brotherhood,"  she  said, 
"  this  society,  or  whatever  it  is,  you 
have  joined,  is  not,  I  understand, 
religious  ?  " 

If  it  was  not  religious,  she  thought, 


144       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

one  could  wriggle  out  of  its  ridicu- 
lous regulations,  and  even  if  it  was, 
one  could,  in  an  emergency,  change 
one's  religion  !  She  was  a  lady  who 
only  considered  impediments  for 
the  purpose  of  destroying  them. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Warbeck,  "  its 
work  is  purely  secular.  Dawes,  of 
Balliol,  founded  it — you  know 
Dawes,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Dawes  ? "  said  the  countess. 
"  Do  you  mean  the  person  who  lives 
at  Shoreditch  and  writes  to  the 
Times  about  the  Athenian  Democ- 
racy ? " 

Warbeck  nodded  his  head.  "  He 
is  a  tremendous  swell,"  he  said  ;  "  he 
is  the  sort  of  genius  who  lives  in 
seclusion  and  animates  a  great  pub- 
lic movement.  There  must  always 
be  a  grand  character  of  that  kind, 
who  can  despise  fame  and  use  am- 
bitious men  as  tools." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  the  dowager  ; 
"  so  you,  I  presume,  are  in  this  Mr. 
Dawes's  tool-basket?" 

This  was  not  the  way  to  express 
an  unselfish  young  man's  devotion  to 
a  noble  cause  ;  he  felt  this,  and  was 
deeply  hurt. 

"  If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way," 
he  said,  flushing  a  little,  u  yes — I 
am  in  Dawes's  tool-basket.  I  hope, 
however,  it  is  not  because  I  am 
vulgarly  ambitious.  I  only  wish  to 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       145 

perform  my  highest  duties  in  the 
best  way.  My  only  object  in  taking 
the  vow  was  this — to  serve  the  pub- 
lic well  one  should  have  no  private 
interests.  In  any  great  govern- 
mental crisis  one  is  too  often  re- 
minded of  the  man  in  the  parable 
who  had  married  a  wife.  It  is  time 
someone  realized  that  self-sacrifice 
is  the  only  sure  foundation  for  per- 
manent success." 

"  H'm,"  said  the  dowager  ;  "  very 
high-minded  and  most  interesting. 
But  the  British  Constitution  does 
not  present  any  opportunities  for 
martyrdom  ;  at  present,  no  politi- 
cian can  be  offered  a  worse  humilia- 
tion than  a  peerage  !  But  that  is 
bad  enough,  I  admit.  I  have  once 
or  twice  thought  very  seriously  of 
dropping  my  title  ;  it  has  lost  all 
meaning,  and  now  it  is  so  much 
more  distinguished  to  be  a  com- 
moner !  But  come,  I  want  to  intro- 
duce you  to  Jane.  She  will  be 
charmed  with  your  views  ;  she,  too, 
is  full  of  heroic  nonsense." 

Jane  was  still  playing  when  the 
dowager  and  Warbeck  came  upon 
her. 

"  This,"  said  the  dowager,  "  is 
your  cousin  Warbeck." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN      WHICH     A     LADY      SPEAKS     HER 
MIND. 

HEN  Warbeck  dropped 
his  cousin's  hand,  he  gave 
a  half  sigh.  He  never 
shook  hands  with  either 
men  or  women  when  he 
could  possibly  avoid  it  ; 
he  regarded  the  act  as  a  sign  of 
friendship  or  affection — not  one  to 
be  heedlessly  given.  This  idiosyn- 
crasy had  made  him  many  enemies, 
but  enemies  so  created  are  not  to  be 
greatly  feared. 

f    Jane's     hand    was     one     of    her 

/  charms ;    it   was   white,   delicate   in 

/    shape,    and,    what   was   more,    firm, 

and  what  was  more  than  all,  very 

^    womanly.    It  seemed  made  to  bestow 

blessings.      Warbeck  was  extremely 

sensitive  to  moral  atmosphere  ;  some 

people  made  him  choke,  others  gave 

him    new  life.     He   was,  therefore, 

quick  to  appreciate  the  young  girl's 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       147 

grace  and  purity,  and  to  appreciate 
her  was  to  remember  his  vow.  So 
he  half  sighed. 

Jane  was  already  what  she  had 
promised  to  be  when  De  Boys  left 
Brentmore — a  girl  of  singular  beauty. 
She  had  all  the  brilliance  without  the 
self-consciousness  of  Sophia  Jenyns, 
and  for  that  reason  she  was,  perhaps, 
less  striking  at  first  sight.  Sophia 
never  permitted  herself  to  escape 
attention.  Jane  did  not  care  whether 
she  was  noticed  or  ignored  ;  she 
knew  that  she  was  far  from  plain 
(for  the  pretty  girl  who  is  ignorant 
of  her  own  comeliness  does  not 
exist),  but  since  she  had  resolved 
not  to  think  of  De  Boys  as  a  lover, 
she  had  lost  all  interest  in  her  appear- 
ance. At  one  time,  certainly,  she 
had  longed  to  find  favor  in  his  sight, 
and  so,  no  doubt,  had  sent  many 
foolish  wishes  after  the  perishable 
and  fleeting  attractions  of  feature 
and  complexion.  But  this  was  a 
weakness  of  -the  past — she  would 
never  be  so  vain  again — ah,  never ! 
At  the  same  time,  when  she  saw  her 
new  cousin,  she  was  rather  glad  that 
she  happened  to  be  wearing  her  most 
picturesque  gown. 

But  in  spite  of  the  agreeable  im- 
pression each  had  produced  on  the 
other,  the  dowager  found  them  both 
very  dull  during  luncheon.  Warbeck 


148      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

talked  on  prosaic  subjects  and  rarely 
addressed  himself  to  Jane.  The 
countess  observed  too,  with  con- 
sternation, that  he  never  once  looked 
at  his  cousin,  but  kept  his  eyes  fixed 
on  his  plate.  She  had  never  seen 
him  so  stupid.  As  for  Jane,  her 
shyness  was  most  natural  and  becom- 
ing ;  she  was  a  girl  who  could  hold 
her  peace  without  sinking  into  inanity. 
It  was  Warbeck  who  caused  her 
ladyship  uneasiness.  Like  most 
determined  women,  she  could  only 
be  discouraged  by  time — by  the 
wearing  off  of  enthusiasm — facts 
could  not  shake  her  purpose,  nor 
opposition  her  courage.  The 
shortest-lived  of  her  projects  at  least 
died  a  natural  death,  and  was 
immediately  succeeded  by  a  direct 
descendant.  Having  made  up  her 
mind  that  Warbeck's  marriage  with 
his  cousin  Jane  should  take  place  in 
the  autumn,  her  ladyship  regarded 
his  celibate  vow  as  a  mere  piece  of 
foolery  ;  it  had  absolutely  no  bearing 
on  the  matter  in  point.  But  why 
was  he  so  depressing  in  his  manner  ? 
Had  he  no  eyes  ?  no  ears  ?  no  taste  ? 
no  manliness  ?  With  all  his  heroics 
had  he  so  little  of  the  hero  that  he 
remained  like  a  stock  or  a  stone  in 
the  presence  of  girlhood  and  beauty  ? 
If  this  was  the  influence  of  Dawes  of 
Balliol,  the  sooner  that  person  was 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       149 

given  a  colonial  appointment  the 
better.  He  was  not  wanted  in, 
London. 

When  luncheon  was  at  an  end, 
Jane  was  obliged  to  leave  them,  as 
she  had  an  engagement  to  drive  in 
the  Park  with  another  new  relation 
— a  lady  who  need  not  detain  us, 
since  she  was  only  remarkable  for 
her  visiting  list.  Warbeck  colored  a 
little  when  he  wished  Jane  good-by. 
"  I  am  afraid,  too,"  he  added,  "  we 
shall  not  meet  again  for  some  time. 
As  my  grandmother  is  so  much  bet- 
ter, I  shall  return  to  France  to-mor- 
row." He  held  the  door  open  for 
her,  and  again  half  sighed,  as,  having 
wished  him  a  pleasant  journey,  she 
passed  out. 

"  Warbeck  !  "  said  the  dowager, 
"  surely  you  do  not  mean  that  ?  You 
are  not  going  away  again  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  great  deal  of  work  on 
hand,"  he  said,  with  some  awkward- 
ness. "  I  am  preparing  one  or  two- 
speeches  and  a  short  pamphlet,  and 
I  find  I  get  fewer  interruptions  in 
Veronne.  It  is  such  a  dull  little  vil- 
lage. There  is  only  one  man  there 
I  can  talk  to — Pere  Villard,  the  his- 
torian. And  he  is  also  there  for  quiet, 
so  we  only  meet  to  argue  !  " 

"  But,"  said  her  ladyship — "  but 
what  do  you  think  of  Jane  ?  "  She 
could  scarce  conceal  her  impatience. 


150       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Your  letters,"  said  Wafbeck, 
after  some  hesitation,  "  had  given 
me  no  idea — but  I  have  exchanged 
so  few  words  with  her.  1  certainly 
did  not  expect  to  see  so — so — tall  a 
girl  !  " 

Lady  Warbeck  had  frequently  ob- 
served that  a  man's  language  became 
ambiguous  as  his  sentiments  grew 
unmistakable.  She  gathered  fresh 
hope. 

"  I  wonder  you  think  her  plain  !  " 
This  was  a  stroke  of  genius.  It  sur- 
prised him  into  candor. 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  her 
lovely-." 

"H'm  !  But  she  is  not  silly  with 
it — she  is  most  intellectual." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it." 

The  dowager  looked  at  the  ceiling. 
At  some  moments  one  can  claim  sym- 
pathy even  from  the  inanimate. 

"  She  will  no  doubt  marry  very 
well." 

The  young  man  frowned.  "She 
is  so  young  yet,"  he  said.  "  Do  not 
let  her  make  any  rash  engagement, 
if  you  can  possibly  keep  her  free. 
It  is  so  easy  to  bind  one's  self,  and — 
and  so  impossible  to  escape  the  con- 
sequences. I  mean,  a  promise  may 
be  made  in  all  sincerity  and  after  the 
most  serious  consideration,  yet  with- 
out fully  realizing — "  He  paused. 
"  I  am  only  saying  this,"  he  said,  at 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       151 

last,  "  because  a  girl  takes  so  much 
risk — even  in  the  most  favorable  cir- 
cumstances— when  she  marries.  Her 
very  innocence  is,  in  a  measure, 
against  her." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  the  Coun- 
tess dryly,  "  that  innocence  is  against 
a  great  many  people." 

"  Not  a  great  many,  my  dear- 
grandmother,"  he  replied,  with  equal 
dryness.  He  got  up  from  his  chair 
and  walked  to  the  window.  Jane  at 
that  very  moment  came  out  of  the 
house  and  stepped  into  the  carriage. 
He  watched  her  drive  away. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  I  can  work 
much  better  at  Veronne." 

The  countess  began  to  wonder 
whether  a  celibate  vow  might  not  be 
a  more  calamitous  invention  than  she 
had  at  first  suspected. 

"  Warbeck,"  she  said,  "you  will 
surely  think  better  of — of  this 
arrangement  you  have  made  with 
Dawes  ?  " 

"  Think  better  of  it !  "  he  repeated. 
"  The  time  for  thinking  about  it  is 
past.  It  is  now  an  accomplished 
fact.  My  word  has  been  given." 

"  But  I  am  certain  you  will 
regret " 

"  It  is  not  a  step  I  would  ever 
allow  myself  to  regret,  nor  would  I 
place  myself  in  a  situation  where  I 
might  be  even  tempted  to  regret  it. 


152      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

I  made  it  with  the  full  knowledge 
that  it  might  possibly  involve  some 
slight  self-sacrifice.  Dawes  has  been 
through  the  mill  ;  he  was  most  care- 
ful not  to  conceal  any  probable  diffi- 
culty." He  spoke  firmly  and  fixed 
his  eyes  on  hers  with  an  expression 
which  she  recognized  as  the  family 
'stubbornness. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  countess  quickly, 
"  you  think  it  would  be  safer  to 
avoid  your  cousin  Jane.  That  is  why 
you  are  going  back  to  Veronne  !  " 

"  What  an  absurd  idea'!  "  said  her 
grandson.  "  You  must  think  me 
very  susceptible." 

"The  Shannons  are  all  alike," 
said  her  ladyship ;  "  they  are  ice- 
bergs to  all  women  till  they  meet  the 
right  one.  And  then  they  melt  at  a 
glance.  ,Look  at  Jane's  father — 
poor  Edmund.  He  saw  this  Battle's 
daughter  hanging  clothes  on  a  line, 
and  fell  in  love  with  her  on  the  spot. 
Nothing  would  make  him  reconsider 
it ;  his  obstinacy  was  simply  criminal. 
But  in  your  case  matters  are  very  dif- 
ferent. Jane  is  desirable  from  every 
point  of  view;  there  is  no  reason " 

"  There  is  every  reason,"  said  the 
young  man,  "  why  we  must  change 
the  subject.  You  must  forgive  me, 
but  I  cannot  discuss  it  further." 

"  I  will  speak  my  mind,"  said  the 
dowager.  "  You  are  ruining  your 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       153 

whole  life  for  a  whim — a  fad — a  piece 
of  arrant  coxcombry.  It  is  not  even 
religious — you  have  admitted  as 
much.  What  can  I  call  it,  then,  but 
affectation  ?  In  a  year's  time — less — 
you  will  be  ashamed  to  remember  it. 
But  in  the  meanwhile — •—" 

"  In  the  meanwhile,"  said  War- 
beck,  "I  can  at  least  be  honorable. 
And  now  I  think  we  have  talked 
enough,  my  dear  grandmother.  You 
will  be  very  tired." 

"  Tired  ?  I  am  perfectly  ill.  You 
have  given  me  my  death-blow  ! " 
She  sank  back  in  her  chair,  and 
was  evidently  far  from  well.  War- 
beck  knelt  down  by  her  side  and 
took  her  hand. 

"  You  would  not  have  me  behave 
dishonorably,"  he  said;  "you  don't 
seem  to  understand.  It — it  is  not 
always  so  easy  to  do  one's  duty  ; 
is  it  fair  to  make  it  harder?  But 
it  must  be  done  in  any  case." 

"  Duty  !  "  she  said  peevishly. 
"  It  will  soon  be  heroic  to  wear  no 
collar  !  Foppery  !  twaddle  !  That 
a  man  in  your  position,  with  your 
responsibilities,  with  an  unblemished 
title  to  support,  should  stoop  to  such 
indecent,  mawkish,  hysterical  balder- 
dash! It  is  scandalous  !"  She  sank 
back  again,  but  summoned  her  re- 
maining strength  for  one  last  blow. 
"  I  have  lived  too  long  !  " 


154      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  You  are  very  cruel." 

"  I  have  lived  too  long !  "  she 
repeated." 

"  In  a  calmer  moment  you  will  see 
how  you  have  wronged  me  !  " 

«  Too— long." 

"  Shall  I  ring  for  your  maid  ?  " 

He  was  really  alarmed — she  had 
changed  so  much  in  the  last  ten 
minutes. 

"  Twenty  maids  could  not  help 
me  !  Warbeck — you  have  not  meant 
— what  you  have  been — saying?" 
Her  voice  was  weak  ;  she  looked  a 
very  old  and  very  feeble  woman.  And 
he  loved  her  dearly.  "  Tell  me — you 
did  not — mean  it,"  she  repeated. 

"  I  meant  it,"  he  said.  "  I  must 
always  mean  it." 

"  But  in  the  circumstances,"  she 
gasped,  "  this  Dawes — he  would 
absolve  you  from — your — promise." 

"  Dawes  !  "  said  Warbeck.  "  I  do 
not  make  vows  to  Dawes — nor  swear 
by  Dawes.  As  I  have  said,  you  do 
not  understand  how  extremely  serious 
a  vow  of  this  kind  is." 

"  You  distinctly  said  it  had 
nothing  to  do  with  religion,"  she 
murmured.  "  How  can  it  be  serious 
when  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
religion?"  Her  failing  eyes  were 
only  weak  in  sight  ;  they  could  still 
pierce  like  needless. 

"  I  can  respect  religious  scruples," 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       155 

she  went  on, "  but  I  have  no  patience 
with  any  Dawses  of  Balliols !  It 
is  noble,  it  is  saintly  to  kill  your 
aged  grandmother  for  a  Dawes. 
You  do  not  believe  in  a  God,  but 
you  will  ruin  your  family  for  a 
Dawes  who  lives  at  Shoreditch  !  I 
am  tired  of  life  !  "  Once  more  she 
bowed  her  white  head.  "  The 
country  is  going  to  the  dogs — and 
Daweses  ! " 

"  My  dear  grandmother,  will  you 
listen  to  reason  ?  " 

"  Reason  ?  "  she  groaned.  "  Every 
bone  in  my  body  fairly  aches  with 
reason.  Ring  for  Coleman,  that  I 
may  get  to  bed  !  " 

He  had  his  hand  on  the  bell  when 
Jane  entered  ;  she  had  returned  with 
some  message  for  the  dowager. 
When  she  saw  her  ladyship's  pallid 
face  and  Warbeck's  distress  she 
looked  from  one  to  the  other  and 
grew  pale  herself. 

44  Grandmamma,"  she  faltered, 
"  are  you  feeling  ill  ?  " 

"  He  has  killed  me,"  said  the 
countess,  pointing  to  her  grandson, 
"  he  has  given  me  my  death-blow. 
I  shall  never  recover."  She  rose 
with  some  difficulty  from  her  chair, 
and  drew  herself  up  to  her  full 
height. 

"  Lean  on  me,"  said  Jane,  with  a 
nice  disregard  of  Warbeck. 


156      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  No,"  said  the  dowager  ;  "  hence- 
forth I  lean  on  no  one.  My  staff 
has  failed  me  when  I  needed  it  most. 
When  I  can  no  longer  support  my- 
self, I  must  fall.  Where  I  fall,  there 
let  me  lie.  Remain  where  you  are, 
my  dear,  I  will  not  be  followed. 
Solitude  now  is  my  only  refuge  !  " 
and  this  marvelous  invalid  walked 
out  of  the  room  with  grave  and 
majestic  steps,  leaving  Jane  and  her 
cousin  Warbeck  face  to  face,  and 
alone. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


IN    WHICH 


ANOTHER     LADY     SPEAKS 
HER     MIND. 


'ADY  JANE  was  now  able 
to  observe  the  young  man 
more  critically  than  had 
yet  been  possible,  and  the 
more  she  observed  him, 
the  greater  effort  it  re- 
quired to  maintain  her  just  indigna- 
tion at  his  conduct.  For,  of  course, 
he  must  have  behaved  most  brutally. 
Had  not  his  too  fond  grandmother 
implied  as  much  ?  And  if  she  had 
said  so,  what  could  a  less  partial 
witness  think  ? 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  girl,  in  a 
severe  voice,  "  you  will  at  least 
remain  in  London  until  she  is  well 
enough  to  see  you  again  ?  You  can- 
not part  like  this." 

"  It  is  a  most  painful  misunder- 
standing," said  Warbeck. 

"  It  is  not  for  me  to  dictate, '  said 
Jane,  in  a  tone  of  command,  "but 


158       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

if  it  is  a  misunderstanding  you  will 
surely  lose  no  time  in  making  it 
clear.  She  is  too  old  for  these 
violent  scenes.  And  she  has  had  a 
great  deal  of  sorrow  and  anxiety 
lately  ;  perhaps  she  is  not  so  patient 
as  those  who  are  young,  and  have 
nothing  to  worry  them  but  their  own 
want  of  thought  !  " 

This  authoritative  and  elderly  tone 
in  one  so  young  and  gentle  aston- 
ished the  earl,  no  doubt,  but  he  was 
so  far  from  feeling  any  resentment, 
that  he  experienced  some  difficulty 
in  hiding  his  admiration. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  make  it  all 
clear,"  he  said  quietly,  "  ever  since 
I  arrived  this  noon.  The  only 
trouble  is,  that  she  refuses  to  listen. 
I  have  tried  to  be  patient,  and  I  hope 
I  have  not  spoken  harshly.  But  I 
must  do  my  duty  whether  she  under- 
stands it  or  not.  The  quarrel  has 
arisen — I  fear  we  must  call  it  a 
quarrel — about  a  question  of  duty — 
of  honor." 

Jane's  cheeks  began  to  burn ;  she 
feared  he  might  think  she  was  in- 
quisitive. And  inquisitiveness  was 
not  one  of  her  faults. 

"  Please,"  she  stammered,  "  please 
do  not " 

But  he,  too,  was  sensitive,  and  had 
very  delicate  feelings. 

"  I  quite  understand  you,"  he  said  ; 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       159 

"  I  am  only  afraid  you  will  not  un- 
derstand me.  My  dear  grandmother 
has  a  genius  for  misrepresentation  ; 
she  can  describe  what  she  sees  with 
perfect  truthfulness,  but  she  does 
not  see  things  as  they  are.  In  this 
particular  instance  it  is  most  unfor- 
tunate. For  honor  has  only  one 
aspect ;  it  is  not  a  matter  of  opinion, 
but  an  incontrovertible  fact." 

"But  she  is  so  honorable  herself," 
said  Jane  eagerly  ;  "  if  you  are  in 
the  right  she  must  agree  with  you — 
she  must.  Are  you  quite — quite 
sure  that  you  are  right  ?  It  is  almost 
as  easy  to  do  wrong  fgr~g  gnnH 
motive,  as  to  dd_rl^htfor  a  bad  one. 
Ttrcre~  ~ate  ahvays  so  many  reasons 
why  we  should  follow  our  own 
wishes." 

"  On  the  whole,"  said  the  young 
man  slowly,  "  I  may  say  there  is  no 
danger  of  any  such  confusion  arising 
in  this  case  ;  it  is  not  a  matter  where 
my  duty  is — is  perfectly  my  inclina- 
tion. If  it  were  not  a  question  of 
principle — of  moral  obligation,  I — I 
might  surrender." 

"  May  I  tell  her  that  you  will  re- 
consider it?"  said  Jane.  "There 
could  be  no  harm  in  saying  that, 
because  the  more  you  consider  what 
is  right,  the  righter  it  seems." 

"  I  cannot  reconsider  it,"  he 
answered,  looking  away  ;  "  I  cannot, 


l6o       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

indeed  ;  I  only  want  to  forget  it  all 
as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  me,"  said 
Jane,  "  but  for  you — that  sounds 
rather — rather  cowardly.  Oh,  I 
ought  not  to  have  said  that.  I  do 
not  know  the  circumstances.  I  am 
always  saying  something  thoughtless. 
Indeed,  I  did  not  mean  it." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  he  said, 
"  and  I  am  cowardly.  But  it  is  one 
advantage  that  I  know  my  own 
weakness  ;  I  do  not  attempt  feats  be- 
yond my  strength."  Yet  he  did  not 
look  weak,  this  man  with  a  square  chin 
and  a  firm  mouth  ;  anything  rather 
than  weak.  Jane  was  bewildered. 

"  My  grandmother  knows  my 
address,"  he  went  on;  "but  I  will 
find  means  to  hear  how  she  is,  even 
if  she  does  not  care  to  write  to  me. 
And — and  tell  her  just  this  :  if  it 
were  possible  to  accept  her  view,  I 
would  be  more  glad  than  I  could  say. 
But  we  are  nowhere  taught  that  duty 
is  invariably  delightful.  Good-by." 

"  Good-by,"  said  Jane. 

When  she  looked  again,  he  was 
gone.  And  she  was  sorry  ;  for  he 
had  a  winning  countenance.  If  she 
had  never  seen  De  Boys  she  would 
have  thought  him  ideally  handsome. 
But  De  Boys  was  a  king  to  him — 
although  he  was  poor  and  not  a 
person  one  might  wear  in  a  locket  ! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN    WHICH    TWO    LADIES    ACT    WITH- 
OUT   THINKING. 

[OPHIA  had  resolved  to 
make  some  appeal  to 
Wrath  before  the  decisive 
Monday,  but  she  could  not 
resolve  on  a  grievance. 
^  To  assign  jealousy  as  the 
cause  of  her  discontent  was  out  of 
the  question.  And,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  she  did  not  want  to  analyze  her 
feelings  ;  she  feared  calmness  as  fire 
might  dread  water.  She  only  cared 
to  survey  her  imaginary  wrongs  with 
a  poetic  contempt  for  base  details  ; 
she  did  not  choose  to  torture  her 
heart  with  questionings,  nor  demon- 
strate her  husband's  innocence  by 
proving  herself  a  fool.  So,  on  Sun- 
day afternoon,  she  wrote  two  notes — 
one  to  De  Boys,  the  other  to  her 
husband. 

This   was  the  one  to   De    Boys, 
which  she  gave  him  with    her   own 


l62       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

hands,  between  the  decorous  covers 
of  a  hymn-book,  the  same  evening: 

"  You  must  tell  them  that  you 
intend  to  walk  to  Barnet  station 
early  to-morrow  morning,  and  leave 
by  the  eight  o'clock  train.  Your 
portmanteau  and  things  can  be  sent 
after  you  later.  This  will  save  you 
from  the  breakfast-table  and  tedious 
good-bys.  I  will  meet  you  at  the 
cross-roads,  and  we  can  discuss  our 
future  plans  during  the  journey  to 
London.  Leave  everything  to  me. 
For  the  present,  of  course,  you  must 
return  to  Oxford  and  complete  your 
education.  S.  J." 

This  was  the  letter  to  her  hus- 
band : 

"  I  have  discovered  a  new  mean- 
ing in  life  and  a  new  duty.  (Never 
believe  that  I  will  disgrace  you.) 
My  weakness — I  had  almost  written 
my  sin — has  been  my  love  for  your- 
self. But  we  were  not  sent  into  the 
world  to  love.  Subjectivity  is  fatal 
to  art  ;  all  great  art  is  objective. 
And  love  is  subjectivity  in  its  lowest 
phase.  I  use  these  philosophical 
terms  because  they  are  convenient, 
and  because  they  are  sufficiently 
comprehensive  to  cover  all  subtle — 
and  perhaps  agonizing — distinctions. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       163 

I  hope  the  Madonna  will  prove  your 
greatest  work.  I  will  write  to  Mar- 
garet from  town.  Please  tell  her 
this. — Your  unhappy  SOPHIA. 

"  P.  S. — I  shall  consult  Sir  Claretie 
Mull  the  moment  I  reach  London. 
I  am  perfectly  certain  that  I  am 
consumptive.  But  do  not  worry 
about  my  health.  I  feel  no  pain — 
only  a  great  sense  of  approaching^ 
peace." 

She  wept  very  much  over  this 
letter,  and  felt  extremely  like  the 
heroine  of  a  psychological  romance. 
To  complete  the  illusion  she  had 
taken  care  to  attire  herself  in  flame- 
colored  silk,  made  a  la  sainte  martyre, 
with  silver  cords  knotted  round  her 
waist,  and  opals  scattered  on  her 
breast.  She  put  out  the  light,  and 
let  the  moonbeams  stream  in  upon 
her.  It  was  a  grand  situation. 
Musing  on  her  own  sublimity  and 
suffering,  she  fell  sound  asleep  on 
the  couch.  Fortunately,  it  was  in 
the  summer  time. 

When  she  awoke  it  was  morning 
— Monday   morning — and    half-past 
six.     At  that  very  moment,  De  Boys, 
no   doubt,   was   leaving  ttie   house. 
She  threw  off  her  garments,  plunged 
in  a  cold  bath  (which  perhaps,  was  ^^ 
unlike  a  psychological  heroine),  and        ^\ 
dressed  herself  in  clinging  black.     A 


164      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

large  hat  and  a  thick  veil  gave  the 
final  touches  to  her  unimpeachably 
correct  costume.  Any  fairly  well- 
read  observer  would  have  known  at 
once  that  she  was  a  misunderstood 
and  cruelly  injured  woman,  about  to 
elope  with  her  only  friend. 

She  opened  her  bedroom  door  and 
peeped  out ;  there  was  no  one  in 
sight.  The  servants,  too,  even  did 
she  meet  them,  were  accustomed  to 
the  habits  of  celebrities  on  a  visit. 
At  The  Cloisters  nothing  was  re- 
markable but  the  commonplace.  She 
passed  two  maids  and  an  under  foot- 
man on  her  way  to  the  room,  which 
had  been  temporarily  arranged  as  a 
studio  for  Wrath.  But  neither  the 
maids  nor  the  footman  showed  the 
smallest  surprise  when  they  saw  her. 

Sophia  left  her  letter  on  the  man- 
telpieces  and  fled  from  the  room 
through  the  French  casement.  Wrath 
had  done  well,  she  thought,  to  turn 
his  odious  picture  to  the  wall  ;  she 
could  never  have  passed  it  else — the 
fascination  of  recognizing  Margaret's 
nose  was  too  engrossing.  Under 
its  enchantment,  hours  sped  like 
minutes. 

As  she  crossed  the  lawn  she  cast 
a  glance  over  her  shoulder  at  Wrath's 
window.  The  curtains  were  not  yet 
drawn  ;  he  was  probably  sleeping — 
sleeping  while  she 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.        165 

A  sob — and  then  for  the  cross- 
roads, De  Boys,  and  the  Ideal. 

Miss  Eliza  Bellarmine,  having- 
much  to  say  on  the  burning  question 
of  Milton's  precise  meaning  when  he 
spoke  of  a  "two-handed  engine  at 
the  door"  (a  phrase  so  beautifully 
imitated  by  a  modern  poet  in  the 
striking  lines  : 

At  the  door  two  hands  are  knocking — 
Hands  of  locomotive  might ) 

Miss  Eliza  Bellarmine,  having  much 
to  say  on  this  great  matter,  had  arisen 
at  crack  of  dawn  to  commit  her  criti- 
cism to  foolscap.  By  half-past  seven 
she  had  explained  Milton  for  all 
.time,  and  disposed  of  his  modern 
imitator  as  "  a  person  of  vigorous  im- 
aginative faculty,  but  no  education." 
Her  task  finished,  she  strolled  out 
into  the  garden.  It  had  been  raining 
during  the  night,  and  she  found  her- 
self observing  footmarks  on  the 
gravel  path.  The  marks  were  small, 
and  had  undoubtedly  been  made  by 
Sophia  Jenyns.  No  one  else  in  the 
house  wore  such  preposterous  French 
shoes. 

Now  Miss  Bellarmine  was  a  lady 
who  could  put  two  and  two  together, 
and  make  any  required  number.  She 
had  not  been  blind  to  the  sympathetic 
relations  which  existed  between  Mr. 


166      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

De  Boys  Mauden  and  Mrs.  Wrath. 
(She  was  always  studiously  careful  to 
think  of  the  actress  as  Mrs.  Wrath.) 
As  a  consequence,  she  had  thought 
herself  prepared  to  see  footprints — 
anywhere.  Eliza  had  very  cynical 
and,  of  course,  very  mistaken  ideas 
about  the  artistic  temperament.  But 
in  her  secret  heart,  and  very  much 
against  that  grim  adviser — her  better 
judgment — she  was  strongly  at- 
tached to  the  blithe  Sophia,  and  now 
she  saw  that  the  footmarks  had  their 
ridiculous  toes  pointed  toward  the 
carriage-drive,  she  was  filled  with  an 
unreasonable,  but  very  real,  alarm. 
She  hurried  into  the  studio  by  the 
same  window  that  Sophia  had  left  it 
some  little  time  before,  and  her  quick 
eyes  went  straight  to  the  letter  on 
the  mantelpiece.  She  read  the 
initials  "  T.  W.,"  which  were  written 
on  the  envelope  in  an  irresolute, 
childish  hand. 

A  woman's  instinct  is  rarely  at 
fault  ;  it  is  only  when  she  attempts 
to  argue  with  it  that  she  blunders. 
Fortunately  Eliza  trusted  her  instinct 
at  that  particular  moment.  She 
knew  that  De  Boys  had  left  The 
Cloisters  that  morning  and  after  a 
somewhat  mysterious  fashion.  Had 
Sophia  gone  with  him?  If  she  had, 
she  would  surely  repent  before  she 
reached  London.  She  had  been 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       167 

unusually  erratic  lately,  and  Miss 
Bellarmine  held  her  ovn  private 
opinion  with  regard  to  Sophia's  state 
of  health.  It  was  extremely  interest-  \ 
ing — no  doubt,  trying — but  not 
dangerous  ;  Lady  Hyde-Bassett  had 
the  same  private  opinion  ;  so,  too, 
had  all  the  women  of  the  household 
— from  the  housekeeper  to  the/ 
scullery-maid.  But  these,  not  kno\\^ 
ing  of  Miss  Jenyns*  marriage,  could 
only  hope  that  the  Lord  would  for- 
give them  if  they  were  mistaken — a 
pious  wish  which  they  repeated  many 
times  a  day,  together  with  their 
possibly  wrong  surmise. 

Eliza's  fingers  wandered  to  the 
envelope.  What  folly  might  it  con- 
tain ?  what  mischief  might  it  cause, 
which  neither  repentance  or  explana- 
tion could  unsay  or  undo?  What 
right  had  Sophia — in  no  matter  how 
interesting  a  condition — to  play  such 
dangerous  pranks  on  a  man  like  her 
husband  ?  Did  she  deserve  to  be 
forgiven  ?  Eliza  heard  Wrath's 
voice  in  the  distance,  and  without 
further  hesitation  see  slipped  the 
envelope  under  the  clock.  She 
would  give  the  little  fool  a  chance. 
If  she  did  not  return  within  two — 
three — at  the  most,  four  hours,  Eliza 
knew  that  she  could  easily  find 
means  of  bringing  the  note  to  light. 
And  then  she  left  the  room,  smiling. 


l68       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

Perhaps  she  had  been  able  to  render 
Wrath  a  small  act  of  friendship,  and 
although  he  himself  could  never 
know  of  it,  this  would  be  a  great 
happiness  for  her  to  remember. 

A  few  minutes  later  she  peeped  in 
at  the  window.  He  had  entered  the 
room  and  was  looking  at  a  sketch  of 
Sophia  which  hung  on  the  wall. 
Eliza  stole  away,  feeling  like  a  con- 
spirator. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

IN    WHICH    THE   NEW    EVE    AND    THE 
NEWER  ADAM  GROW  ABSENT-MINDED. 

E  Boys  stood  waiting  at  the 
cross-roads  when  Sophia 
appeared  in  sight.  He 
hastened  to  meet  her,  his 
countenance  showing  the 
decent,  temperate,  and  sub- 
dued enthusiasm  which  befitted  the 
pioneer  of  a  great  philosophical 
experiment.  Sophia,  most  unreason- 
ably, thought  his  manner  cold — net 
that  she  would  have  seen  him  other- 
wise. The  Ideal  was  founded  on  ice 
— eternal,  Arctic. 

"  We  are  fortunate  in  our  day," 
she  said,  in  a  quaking  voice  ;  "  it  is 
delightful  walking.  But  I  am  rather 
tired.  Is  there  any  place  where  I 
can  rest  ?  " 

De  Boys  looked  about  him  ;  it 
was  obviously  impossible  that  she 
could  rest  on  the  ground,  and  on 
either  side  of  them  were  high  hedges. 


IJO       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  If  you  can  manage  to  go  on  a 
little  further,"  he  said,  "  we  may  find 
a  cottage — or  something  !  But  I  am 
afraid  \ve  have  not  much  time.  The 
train " 

"  But  there  are  lots  of  trains,"  said 
Sophia  wearily,  "  and  there  is  no 
hurry." 

"Will  you  take  my  arm?"  said 
De  Boys.  "  We  shall  not  meet  any 
one,  and  if  we  do " 

She  shrank  back  ;  the  only  arm 
she  ever  permitted  herself  to  rest  on 
was  Wrath's. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  said,  "  I  hate  Bak- 
ing people's  arms  !  " 

The  young  man  colored,  and,  in 
an  aggrieved  tone,  murmured  an 
apology. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  take  a  gloomy 
view  of  things,"  she  said,  with  a  cer- 
tain severity,  "nor  do  I  want  to  be 
disagreeable,  but  I  hope  we  are  act- 
ing wisely.  I  hope  we  are  not  doing 
wrong  !  " 

"  I  hope  not,"  he  said,  with  appal- 
ling seriousness. 

She  shivered,  although  it  was  a 
warm  morning. 

"Of  course,"  he  went  on,  "I 
obeyed  your  instructions,  because  a 
woman's  tact  is  generally  acknowl- 
edged to  be  the  best  in  such  matters. 
But  I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that 
I  could  wish  it  might'  have  been 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       IJI 

arranged  a  little  more  openly ;  I 
mean,  without  giving  it  this  clan- 
destine air  which — which  is  not  alto- 
gether pleasant.  It  looks  too  much 
like  running  away — and  running 
away  is  low  !  Your  note  was  most 
characteristic ;  it  reminded  me  of 
our  first  meeting.  Do  you  remember 
it  ?  when  you  told  me  that  you  only 
saw  the  honeysuckle  !  " 

He  glanced  at  her  sideways  and 
thought  she  was  not  looking  so  much 
like  Jane  as  usual.  But  she  was  still 
lovely — he  could  forgive  her  a  great 
deal.  Such  is  the  magnanimity  of 
the  wise  gander  in  his  judgment  of 
the  endearing,  if  inconsequential, 
goose. 

"  Do  not  think,"  he  said,  "  that  I 
fail  to  appreciate  your  courage.  You 
are  only  too  dauntless  !  You  do  not 
see  the  dangers  which  would  appal 
a — a  more  ordinary  mortal.  Oddly 
enough,  after  you  had  left  the  draw- 
ing room  last  night  Wrath  said  he  had 
hoped  to  paint  you  as  Alcestis — the 
ideal,  courageous  woman,  you  know, 
who  died  in  her  husband's  stead." 

"Oh!"  said  Sophia  faintly, 
"  what — what  else  did  he  say  ? " 

"  He  did  not  say  anything  else," 
said  Mauden. 

"  How  did  he  look  when  he  said 
it?" 

"  He  was  looking  at  your  photo- 


172        A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

graph,"  said  De  Boys.  His  thoughts 
had  wandered  to  the  time  when  he 
had  last  walked  on  a  country  road  at 
that  hour  in  the  morning.  Jane  had 
been  with  him  then.  How  long  ago 
it  seemed  !  Did  it  seem  so  long  to 
Jane  ?  Was  she,  like  all  women, 
fickle  ?  Had  she  forgotten  him,  in 
the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  her 
new  position  ?  He  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

"  I  mean,"  said  Sophia,  "  was 
Wrath  looking  happy,  or  tired,  or 
interested,  or  anything?" 

"  I  think  he  was  rather  sleepy," 
said  De  Boys,  "  or  at  least  I 
was.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  how  much 
you  remind  me  of  a  Miss  Shannon  ? 
She  is  Lady  Jane  Shannon  now. 
But  at  one  time  I  knew  her  very 
well." 

"  Really  ?  "  said  Sophia.  "  You 
must  tell  me  about  her.  I  suppose 
it  would  be  considered  a  compliment 
to — to  be  asked  to  sit  for  Alcestis?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  De  Boys — 
"  undoubtedly.  Yes,  as  I  was  say- 
ing, you  bear  the  most  extraor- 
dinary resemblance  to  Jane.  But 
while  your  hair  is  black,  here  is  a 
kind  of  russet  gold " 

"  Russet  gold  ?  How  lovely  !  and 
so  fashionable.  What  did  Margaret 
say  when  Wrath  said  he  intended  to 
paint  me  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  she  said  anything. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.       1/3 

I  wish  you  could  know  Ja — Lady 
Jane.  She  has  so  much  originality. 
I  am  sure  you  would  become  great 
friends." 

"  Ye — es.  I  suppose  Margaret 
looked  as  though  he  ought  to  have 
asked  her  to  be  Alcestis  ?  " 

But  De  Boys  did  not  hear  ;  he 
was  wondering  whether  Jane  and 
Sophia  really  could  become  great 
friends.  Would  Jane  quite  grasp 
the  Before-the-Fall  Ideal  ?  Would 
there  be  any  difficulty  in  explain- 
ing  

"  Of  course,"  said  Sophia  sud- 
denly, "  women  must  feel  flattered 
when  Wrath  wants  to  paint  them. 
To  begin  with,  he  is  a  very  hand- 
some man." 

"  Very  handsome  indeed  !  "  sighed 
Mauden.  He  was  thinking  of 
Jane. 

"  He  gives  one  such  an  idea  of 
power,"  said  Sophia  ;  "  the  moment 
you  see  him  you  feel  '  Here  is  some 
one  to  trust.'  " 

"Jane  is  the  sort  of  girl,  you 
know,"  said  De  Boys,  "  that — that 
you  meet  once  and  never  forget. 
It  is  not  merely  because  she  is 
beautiful.  Her  beauty — which  is 
very  great — is  her  least  charm." 

"  Indeed  !  I  can  wjell  believe  it. 
It  is  only  within  the  last  two  years 
that  I  have  realized  how  verv  hand- 


174      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

some  Wrath  is.  Is  it  not  absurd  ? 
when  I  have  been  with  him  ever 
since  I  was  born  !  But  if  you — 
care — for  people,  and,  of  course,  I — 
care  for  him " 

"  Naturally,"  said  Mauden  ;  "  and 
it  is  very  singular,  but  if  you  love 
people,  you  don't  know  what  you 
love  them  for  until  you  lose  them. 
And  then " 

"  Don't  say  until  you  lose  them," 
faltered  Sophia,  "  that  sounds  so — 
so  awful ! " 

"It  does,  doesn't  it?"  said  Mau- 
den ;  "  the  sense  of  loss,  of  being, 
as  it  were,  eternally  separated,  is 
very  terrible.  And  death  is  not 
the  only  veil  ;  sometimes  our  own 
folly — and  when  we  have  only 
our  own  folly  to  blame  it — it  is  so 
hopeless  and  so  much  harder  to 

bear  than "  Where  was  his 

fluency  ?  his  command  of  language  ? 
Could  it  be  that  as  thoughts  be- 
came real,  words  grew  meaning- 
less ? 

"  We — that  is  Jane  and  I — grew 
up  together,"  he  went  on  ;  "  we  are 
not  related,  but  it  always  seemed  as 
though  we  were.  I  don't  mean  to 
say  that  we  were  like  brother  and 
sister,  but " 

"  I  understand,"  said  Sophia 
eagerly,  "  it  is  the  same  with  Wrath 
and  myself.  It  is  true  that  I  have 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.      175 

never  regarded  him  as  my  father, 
but,  as  you  say,  a  sort  of  relation, 
ship " 

"  Have  you  left  him  any  word — 
any  explanation  ?  "  said  De  Boys,  in 
a  low  voice. 

"  I  wrote  him  a  letter,"  said 
Sophia.  "  Not  exactly  the  sort  of 
letter  one  would  write  to  a  guardian, 
you  know,  but  nicer!  Do  you  think 
he  will  consider  me  ungrateful  not  to 
have " 

"  I  am  afraid  he  may,"  said  Mauden. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  generous 
he  has  always  been,"  she  said.  "  I 
would  not  like  him  to  think  me  un- 
grateful, Mr.  Mauden." 

"  Yes." 

"  If  you  don't  mind,"  she  said 
weakly,  "  I  think  I  won't  go  to  Lon- 
don to-day." 

The  young  man  tried  not  to  look 
indecently  thankful. 

"  But,"  he  said,  "  you  cannot  go 
back  alone.  And  your  letter?" 

"  Luckily,"  she  answered,  "  I  did 
not  mention  your  name  in  the  letter. 
I  can  explain  all  that.  He  won't  be 
angry  with  me."  She  burst  into 
tears.  "  He  has  never  been  angry 
with  me  in  his  life  !  I  wish  now 
he  had  given  me  one  or  two  good 
shakes.  I  am  so  wicked  !  He  has 
brought  me  up  very  badly  ! — every- 
body says  it !  " 


176      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Don't  cry,"  said  Mauden. 

"  I  can't  help  it.  And  I  feel 
so  ill.  I  haven't  had  any  breakfast. 
I  am  not  fit  to  be  alone.  My 
father  was  just  the  same  ;  he  killed 
himself  ;  he  never  would  think 
things  over,  and  I  am  just  like  him  ; 
Wrath  has  always  said  so." 

Mauden  did  not  feel  in  a  mood  to 
gainsay  Wrath's  opinion.  In  fact, 
his  reverence  and  admiration  for 
Wrath's  saintliness  and  long-suffer- 
ing were  increasing  every  moment. 

u  Suppose,"  he  said,  "  we  both  go 
back  to  him  and  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it  ? " 

"Oh,  no!"  said  Sophia,  "you 
mustn't  come.  I  would  not  have 
Margaret  know  a  word  about  it  for 
the  world." 

"  I  must  see  you  safely  within  the 
gates,  at  all  events,"  said  Mauden, 
with  firmness.  She  had  already 
turned  and  was  walking  at  a  rapid 
pace.  Her  fatigue  was  no  longer 
apparent. 

"You  are  not  to  come  with  me," 
she  said,  with  her  eyes  fixed  in  the 
direction  of  The  Cloisters. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  De  Boys,  "  but 
I  must." 

"I  insist,"  said  Miss  Jenyns,  "on 
returning  alone.  I  will  not  be  made 
ridiculous  !  " 

He  halted,  took  off  his  hat,  and 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     177 

waited  until  she  had  advanced  some 
yards  in  front  of  him.  At  this  dis- 
creet distance,  he  followed. 

"  I  will  write  to  you,"  she  called 
over  her  shoulder ;  "  but  I  have 
made  a  great  mistake.  I  shall  be 
extremely  ill  after  this  !  " 

He  bowed  again  but  still  followed. 

"  Do  you  wish,"  she  said  at  last, 
"  to  compromise  me  ? " 

"  I  cannot  leave  you  unprotected," 
said  Mauden,  getting  pale.  He,  too, 
had  a  temper. 

"  I  came  here  alone,  and  I  presume 
I  can  return  alone.  Please  do  not 
make  me  angry." 

Matters  were  at  this  unhappy  stage 
when  they  heard  the  rumble  of 
wheels.  Presently  a  grocer's  cart 
appeared  at  the  far  end  of  the 
road. 

"  I  will  ask  this  man  to  drive  me 
back,"  said  Sophia.  Then  she  gave 
Mauden  a  fiery  glance.  "  We  shall 
t>e  the  talk  of  the  county  ! " 

"  Possibly  too,  of  London,"  he  ob- 
served. 

"  You  should  not  h§ve  exposed  me 
to  this,"  she  went  on  ;  "  it  was  un- 
kind. Consumption  is  in  my  family, 
and  it  is  well  known  that  consump- 
tives are  not  responsible  for  their 
conduct!"  She  hailed  the  grocer 
with  a  royal  gesture. 

"  I  have  walked  too  far,"  she  said, 


178    A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

when  he  stopped,  "  will  you  kindly 
take  me  to  The  Cloisters  ?" 

When  she  found  herself  actually 
seated  in  the  cart,  her  customary 
good  humor  returned.  She  lifted 
her  veil  and  flung  an  artless  smile  to 
heaven. 

"  How  my  husband  will  laugh 
when  I  tell  him  !  "  she  said. 

Even  months  afterward,  Mauden 
was  unable  to  explain  her  motive  in 
making  this  astounding  remark  at 
that  particular  moment.  When,  how- 
ever, in  later  years  he  confided  the 
whole  episode — together,  of  course, 
with  every  other  episode  of  his  bach- 
elor career — to  the  wife  of  his  bosom 
(who,  for  the  present,  shall  be  name- 
less), she  explained  it  without  an  in- 
stant's hesitation. 

"  She  referred  to  her  husband," 
said  the  lady,  "  entirely  for  the 
benefit  of  the  grocer's  man  !  She  was 
not  even  thinking  of  you!  " 

At  which  he  could  only  look  in- 
credulous. But  he  was  nevertheless 
impressed  with  the  truth  of  her  as- 
sertion. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

IN  WHICH    A  FARCE    IS    PLAYED    VERY 
SERIOUSLY. 

REAKFAST  was  always 
served  punctually  at  nine 
o'clock  at  The  Cloisters. 
As  the  clock  chimed  the 
hour,  Lady  Hyde  -  Bassett 
would  descend  the  stairs, 
and  woe  to  the  guest  who  was 
not  there  to  observe  her  fresh- 
ness and  vivacity.  On  this  one 
point,  she  was  as  unreasonably  severe 
as  all  malleable  men  and  women  are, 
who  make  up  their  minds  to  be  un- 
yielding on,  at  least,  one  subject. 
When  she  entered  the  breakfast 
room,  therefore,  on  that  eventful 
Monday  morning,  and  saw  no  Sophia 
Jenyns,  her  eyebrows  began  to 
twitch.  Wrath  was  reading  the 
Times,  and  Miss  Bellarmine  was 
studying  a  new  novel,  which  dealt 
with  the  evolution  of  the  soul  from 
protoplasm  to  immortality — a  work  to 


180    A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

be  attacked  when  the  mind  was  not 
predisposed  to  slumber. 

"  Where  is  Sophia  ?  "  said  Mar- 
garet, having  wished  them  both  good 
morning. 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Wrath. 
"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Eliza  slowly, 
"  she  has  gone  for  a  short  walk." 

"  At  this  hour,"  said  Margaret, 
"  and  without  her  breakfast  ?  " 

"Are  you  quite  sure?"  said 
Wrath. 

"  I  believe,"  murmured  Eliza, 
"  she  said  last  night  that  she  in- 
tended to  try  an  early  prowl.  Did 
you  not  hear  her  say  so  ?  " 

It  was  very  extraordinary,  but 
neither  of  them  had  heard  Sophia 
make  the  remark. 

"  But  young  Mauden "  began 

Lady  Hyde-Bassett. 

She  caught  a  beseeching  glance 
from  Eliza,  and  felt  a  sharp  step  on 
her  toe.  They  were  now  sitting  at 
the  table. 

"  Young  Mauden,"  she  went  on 
calmly,  "  was  very  wise  to  go  by 
that  eight  o'clock  train." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Wrath  suddenly, 
"  Sophia  would  not  wander  about 
the  country  like  a  Tom  o'  Bedlam. 
I  know  she  is  studying  Ophelia,  but, 
all  the  same,  it  is  most  annoying  !  " 

The  two  women  dared  not  look 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     l8l 

up.  But  they  were  holding  a  con- 
versation without  words,  which  is 
not  a  difficult  feat — although  few 
mortals  seem  aware  of  it — when 
minds  are  sympathetic,  and  ordinary 
means  of  communication  are  impossi- 
ble. To  explain  this  mental  phe- 
nomenon, however,  is  work  for  the 
metaphysician.  We  can  only  say 
that  Lady  Hyde-Bassett  understood 
Miss  Bellarmine  so  perfectly,  that 
she  lost  her  appetite  for  breakfast. 

"  Could  not  someone  be  sent  to 
her  room  to  inquire  ?  "  said  Wrath, 
rising  from  his  seat,  and  oblivious 
alike  of  manners,  his  two  com- 
panions, and  general  facts.  Thought 
was  swallowed  up  in  sensation,  and 
he  recognized  the  sensation  as  fear. 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Eliza. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  ;  "you  are 
very  good.  Thank  you." 

When  she  had  gone  out  of  the 
room,  he  turned  to  Lady-Hyde  Bas- 
sett.  "  Margaret,"  he  said,  "  do  you 
think  I  have  been  blind  this  last  fort- 
night ?  Do  you  think  I  have  seen 
nothing  ? " 

"  Seen — nothing  ?  "  she  repeated  ; 
"  how  ?  what  ?  " 

"  Do  not  act,"  he  said  ;  "be  a 
woman — be  honest.  You  have  seen 
all  that  I  have  seen — perhaps  more." 

"  No  !  no  !  not  more — it  was  all 
very  innocent — a  childish  flirtation. 


182     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

— I  thought  it  best  to  ignore  it — I 
would  not  allow  myself  to  give  it 
consideration." 

"  Ah  ?  that  is  what  I  thought. 
The  question  is — was  I  wrong  ? 
Should  I  have  spoken  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  You  were  right  to  trust 
her.  The  dreadful  things  we  are 
both  fearing  are  an  insult — an  injus- 
tice. Mauden  is  the  soul  of  honor. 
Sophia  is  light-hearted,  but — trust 
her.  Only  trust  her  !  " 

"  I  do — but — where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  Do  not  ask  me !  Do  not  ask 
yourself  !  " 

"  Is  she  with  Mauden  ?  " 

"  No  !  no  !  no  !  how  can  you  say 
it?" 

"  Why  not  ask  me  how  I  can  say 
it — and  live  ? " 

She  took  his  hand.  "  Tom,"  she 
said,  "  I  would  swear  that  she  was 
innocent  even  if  she  told  me  with  her 
own  lips " 

"  Innocent  !  "  he  said  angrily. 
"  Am  I  so  vile  already  ?  I  want  no 
man  or  woman  to  assure  me  of  my 
wife's  innocence.  You  know,"  he 
went  on,  after  a  painful  pause,  "  I 
am  naturally  jealous.  I — I  try  to 
conquer  this — I  am  so  many  years 
older  than  she  is,  and  she  is  so — 
there  is  every  reason  why  I  must 
love  her,  and  there  are  none  why  she 
should  care  for  me — it  would  be 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.      183 

absurd  to. expect  her  to  sit  gazing  at 
me  all  day — me,  bald,  dull,  plodding. 
Mauden  is  her  own  age,  and  amus- 
ing. It  was  a  crime  to  marry  her  ; 
she  was  a  child.  She  knew  nothing 
about  love.  She  has  no  idea  how 
much  she  is  to  me.  1  could  not  tell 
her,  it  would  frighten  her — the  re- 
sponsibility  " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Lady  Hyde-Bassett, 
"  why  did  you  not  speak  out  and 
risk  the  frightening  ?  " 

"  I  was  selfish,"  he  went  on,  not 
hearing,  "  and  thought  only  of  my 
own  happiness.  And  1  persuaded 
her — don't  you  understand  how  I 
must  hate  myself  ?  Innocent  !  She 
is  only  too  innocent.  It  is  I  who  am 
guilty  ! " 

"  I  wish,"  said  Lady  Hyde-Bas- 
sett — "  I  wish  Eliza  would  make 
haste." 

"  She  will  not  come  back,"  said 
Wrath,  "  because  she  has  found  the 
room  empty,  and  because  she,  too, 
thinks " 

Then  he  left  her.  And  Margaret 
could  only  sit  with  her  hands 
clasped,  trying  her  best  not  to  think. 
For  thinking  was  not  to  be  trusted 
at  that  moment.  Faith — "  the  sub- 
stance of  things  hoped  for,  the  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen  " — was  her 
only  refuge.  For  there  is  no  virtue 
so  sublime  that  it  cannot  be  used 


184     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

with   advantage  even  in  a   comedy 
situation. 

When  the  grocer  stopped  his  horse 
at  the  main  entrance  to  The  Cloisters, 
Sophia  got  down,  gave  the  man  a  tip, 
and  lurked  under  a  tree  until  he  had 
driven  out  of  sight.  Then  she  went 
out  into  the  road  again,  and  walked 
to  a  certain  side  door  which  was  cut 
in  the  wall  of  the  kitchen  garden,  and 
which  was  rarely  used  except  by  the 
servants  and  the  men  employed  on 
the  estate.  She  opened  this  doot 
and  found  herself  face  to  face  with 
the  head  gardener. 

"  How  unlucky  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  have  just  come  in  to  steal  some 
strawberries.  Please  don't  give  me 
any  of  them,  because  that  would  not 
be  the  same  thing  !  "  And,  laugh- 
ing gayly,  she  sauntered  up  the  path. 
The  gardener  stroked  his  beard  and 
stared  after  her.  Had  not  his  wife 
kept  him  awake  the  whole  of  the  pre-, 
ceding  night,  with  her  "  firm  beliefs  " 
and  "dying  breaths"  on  the  subject 
of  Miss  Sophia  Jenyns  ?  And  now 
she  was  hankering  after  strawberries^ 
He  whistled. 

Sophia,  meanwhile,  went  on  her 
way,  rejoicing  that  she  had  been  able 
to  make  such  a  plausible  excuse  for 
entering  the  grounds  by  a  back  door. 
She  hugged  the  elusive  hope  that 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     185 

Wrath  had  not  yet  seen  her  nonsensi- 
cal letter,  and  she  was  now  wonder- 
ing how  she  could  get  round  to  the 
studio,  where,  perhaps,  if  the  Fates 
were  kind,  she  would  find  the  envel- 
ope with  its  seal  unbroken.  She 
glanced  at  the  big  clock  which  smiled 
from  the  archway  of  the  stable  yard; 
it  was  exactly  nine.  They  would  all 
be  at  the  breakfast-table  ;  she  could 
cross  the  lawn  without  the  smallest 
risk  of  meeting  either  Wrath  or  Mar- 
garet, or  Eliza  Bellarmine.  Sophia 
caught  up  her  skirt  and  ran.  Once 
started,  she  did  not  seem  able  to 
stop ;  she  had  only  a  frantic  notion 
that  she  was  chasing  her  own  head. 
The  chase  ended,  however,  when  she 
reached  the  studio  window.  Her 
limbs  grew  heavy  and  her  sight  dim; 
she  stumbled  over  the  threshold,  and 
groped  her  way  to  the  mantelpiece. 
The  letter  was  gone.  She  tore  off 
her  veil  and  stared  helplessly  about 
the  room.  Then  something  made 
her  look  under  the  clock.  It  was 
there,  after  all.  She  thrust  the  hate- 
ful thing  into  her  pocket,  and  fell. 

Wrath  found  her  senseless  on  the 
floor  when  he  entered  the  studio  a 
few  moments  later. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

fN     WHICH     A     YOUNG     GENTLEMAN 
OWNS   HIS   UNWORTHINESS. 

HE  Dowager  Countess  of 
Warbeck  was  confined  to 
her  bed  for  some  days 
after  the  unhappy  dis- 
agreement with  her  grand- 
_  son.  Sir  Claretie  Mull 

did  not,  however,  find  in  her  symp- 
toms any  grave  cause  for  alarm, 
and  he  told  the  young  earl  as  much, 
adding,  that  if  he  thought  of  leaving 
England,  there  was  no  earthly  reason 
why  he  should  not  do  so.  His  lord- 
ship, therefore,  wrote  the  dowager 
an  affectionate  adieu,  expressing  his 
regret  that  she  would  not  see  him, 
and  assuring  her  of  his  unalterable 
love.  With  kindest  regards  to  his 
cousin,  Lady  Jane,  he  remained  ever 
her  devoted  grandson,  Warbeck. 

"  Never  mention  his  name  in  my 
presence,"  said  the  countess  to 
Jane,  after  she  had  read  this  ;  "  when 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     187 

he  repents  of  his  impious  conduct,  I 
will  forgive  him.  But  until  then  my 
only  course  is  to  forget." 

On  the  following  Monday,  she  was 
still  weak,  but  able  to  lie  on  the  sofa. 
Jane  was  reading  aloud  to  her  when 
a  visitor  was  announced  in  the  person 
of  "  Mr.  Mauden."  He  had  asked 
to  see  Lady  Jane  Shannon. 

"  You  cannot  see  him  to-day,"  said 
the  countess  sharply  ;  "  it  would  be 
most  improper.  Tell  him  to  come 
when  I  am  strong  enough  to  receive 
visitors." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  see  him,  dear 
grandmama,"  said  Jane,  with  a  fine 
blush,  "  whether  it  is  proper  or  not." 

"  What  ?  "  said  the  Dowager.  "  A 
little  louder,  my  love.  This  attack 
has  affected  my  hearing."  And  her 
blue  eyes  looked  black. 

"  I  said,"  repeated  Jane,  without 
flinching,  "I  am  afraid  I  must  see 
Mr.  Mauden  whether  it  is  proper  or 
improper.  He  is  a  very  old  friend." 

"Oh  !"  said  her  ladyship — "oh! 
I  remember  now  who  he  is.  The 
farmer  person  who  is  going  to  be  a 
schoolmaster.  See  the  good  crea- 
ture, by  all  means  !  " 

The  countess  was  always  most 
triumphant  when  she  was  most 
defeated. 

As '  Jane  ran  downstairs  to  the 
drawing  room  she  lost  a  little  of  her 


l88     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

color,  but  when  she  opened  the  door, 
and  saw  De  Boys  actually  standing 
on  the  hearthrug,  she  grew  quite 
white.  He,  on  his  part,  blushed  as 
he  came  forward  to  meet  her. 

She  gave  him  her  right  hand  and 
he  took  the  other.  Thus  he  held 
them  both,  nor  did  he  seem  anxious 
to  release  either. 

"  Jane,"  he  said,  "  why  have  you 
got  this  beastly  money  ?  and  why 
are  you  living  at  this  awful  Queen's 
Gate  ?  and — why  have  you  forgotten 
me  ?" 

"  I  haven't  !  " 

"  But  you  have.  Here  is  your  last 
letter — all  about  the  South  Kensing- 
ton Museum  and  Greek  vases.  I 
don't  want  to  hear  about  Greek 
vases  ;  I  want  to  hear  about  you. 
Dear,  dear,  dearest,  why  have  you 
got  so  cultured?  why  do  you  .quote 
Browning  ?  why  do  you  write  about 
ideals  and  all  such  tiresome  rubbish  ? 
I  would  not  give  your  old  letters 
about  the  guinea-pig  for  the  whole 
of  Tennyson  !  And  you  have  got 
your  hair  done  differently.  Let  me 
see  whether  I  like  it?  Yes,  I  do. 
Are  the  sleeves  meant  to  took  like  a 
bishop's  ?  Jane,  may  I  kiss  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Jane. 

Perhaps  he  did  not  hear.  At  all 
events,  it  made  no  difference.  And, 
indeed,  she  did  not  seem  to  think 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     189 

that  it  would.  His  kisses  were  be- 
coming  (from  his  own  point  of  view) 
agreeably  indefinite  when  she  asked 
a  question.  This  was  the  question  : 

"  Did  you  leave  The  Cloisters  very 
early  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Shall  we  sit  over  there  by  that 
green  dragon  ? "  he  suggested 
gravely. 

He  chose  a  chair  with  its  back  to 
the  light.  Jane  sat  opposite  with 
the  sun  shining  in  on  her  face.  This, 
he  felt,  was  as  it  should  be.  He  did 
not  like  to  see  women  afraid  of  the  sun. 

"  I  left  The  Cloisters  this  morn- 
ing," he  said,  "and  I  return  to 
Oxford  this  afternoon." 

She  checked  a  sigh  ;  she  certainly 
could  not  expect  him  to  waste  his 
time  with  her. 

"Do  you  like  Lady  Hyde-Bas- 
sett  ? "  she  said,  trying  to  look 
cheerful. 

"  Very  much,"  said  De  Boys  ; 
"  she  is  charming.  But  she  is  whim- 
ish,  of  course,  like  most  women." 

"  And  that  Miss  Bellarmine  you 
mentioned  in  your  last  letter?  " 

"  She  has  a  fine  figure,  but  she 
jaws  too  much.  No  one  can  get  a 
word  in  when  she  takes  up  an  argu- 
ment. I  cannot  bear  these  blue- 
stockings myself.  Field  ing's  A melia 
is,  ;n  my  mind,  the  highest  type  of 
woman  !  " 


190      A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  You  used  to  say  she  was  insipid." 

"  Ah,  that  was  a  schoolboy's  ver- 
dict." 

"  And  what  about  that  Miss  Sophia 
Jenyns  you  mentioned  in  your  first 
letter  ?  She  must  have  been  the 
most  interesting  of  them  all." 

"  Yes,  I  think  one  would  call  her 
interesting.  In  the  beginning  she 
reminded  me — in  a  very  faint  de- 
gree— of  you.  But  you  have  really 
nothing  in  common." 

"  I  suppose  she  is  very  beautiful  ? " 
she  sighed.  "  Grandmama  says  she 
is  the  loveliest  actress  in  Europe." 

"  She  ts  lovely — for  an  actress," 
he  said  ;  "  there  is  a  glamour  about 
about  her  which  some  people  might 
find  very  attractive.  But  I  have 
nothing  to  say  against -her.  She  is 
rather  uncertain  in  temper  ;  not  a 
woman  one  could  depend  on.  She 
has  no  feeling.  And  what  is  a 
woman — no  matter  how  pretty  she 
may  be — unless  she  has  feeling  ?  I 
would  call  Miss  Jenyns  an  egoist  ; 
very  fascinating,  but  for  all  that,  an 
egoist.  And  egoism  is,  I  think,  the 
eighth  deadly  sin.  It  is  the  special 
sin  of  this  century.  But,  Jane,  don't 
let  us  talk  of  -isms  and  -ivities.  I 
am  sick  of  them,  dearest.  One  heard 
of  nothing  else  at  The  Cloisters. 
An  enervating  atmosphere  !  If  I 
had  been  there  another  week  I  should 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.      ipl 

have  lost  all  ambition.  I  feel  as 
though  I  had  stepped  from  a  window 
conservatory  into  the  fresh  woods. 
In  God's  name,  let  us  be  natural ; 
let  us  drop  jargon  ;  let  us  only 
remember  that  we  love  each  other — 
for  nothing  else  matters." 

"Are  you  sure  you  won't  get  tired 
of  me  ?  I  am  not  clever  and  intel- 
lectual. I  understand  you,  dear,  but 
I  cannot  answer  properly.  It — it  is 
horrid  to  feel  so  ignorant  when  you 
find  yourself  talking  to — to  someone 
who  is  accustomed  to  meet  geniuses, 
and  men — and  women — who  can  say 
something  about  everything,  and  just 
in  the  right  way.  Now  I  suppose  if 
I  tried  I  could  say  something,  too, 
but  it  wouldn't  sound  a  bit  like  the 
conversation  in  novels.  I  always 
think  in  such  short  words  !  " 

"  The  perfection  of  literary  style — 
or  of  conversational  style — is  to  be 
simple,"  said  De  Boys — "  simplicity 
is  delicious,  and  lamentably  rare.  I 
should  hate  a  wife  who  could  turn 
me  into  an  epigram." 

"  A  wife  !  "  she  murmured. 

"  Dearest,  you  are  the  only  woman 
in  my  world.  The  rest  are'  your 
reflection  ;  when  I  see  any  beauty  or 
charm  in  a  woman  it  is  because  she 
reminds  me  of  you." 

Jane  blushed.  "  I  think  I  can 
understand  that,"  she  said,  "  because, 


192       A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

after  you  had  left  Brentmore,  I  used 
to  talk  to  Henry  Burkett — the  one 
sings  in  the  choir — and — and  some- 
times I  used  to  forget,  and  think  he 
was  you.  But  I  soon  found  the  dif- 
ference. You  are  not  angry  with 
me  ?  " 

•'  Burkett  is  such  a  smug  !  " 

"  But  I  missed  you  so  terribly  ! 
And  I  never  looked  at  him  when  I 
could  help  it.  When  I  did  look  I 
used  to  half  close  my  eyes.  That 
made  him  more  indistinct." 

"  Still,  I  do  not  care  to  think  that 
you  have  flirted  with  men.  If  any 
one  else  had  told  me " 

"  It  wasn't  flirting,  De  Boys.  We 
only  talked  about  books,  and  poetry, 
and  religion,  and  things  like  that. 

I  hope  you  don't  think " 

*. "I   am   quite   sure,  dearest,  that 
/your  intentions  in  the  matter  were 
beyond  reproach.     At  the  same  time, 
religion  is  rather  an  intimate  subject ; 
(  I  mean,  it  covers  everything  or  any- 
;  thing.     If  you  begin  a  conversation 
on  religion  there  is  no  saying  how  it 
will  end.     It  would  entirely  depend 
on  the  view  you  happened  to  take. 
For  this  reason,  it  is  not  a  subject 
for    a    young   girl    to   discuss   with 
strange  men  ;  nor,  in  fact,  with  any 
man   except  her  husband — or  some 
clergyman  of  whom  he  approved.'!. 

"  A  girl  must  say  something,"  said 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     193 

Jane,  whose  meekness  had  its  limit  ; 
"  what  did  Miss  Jenyns  talk  about  ? 
She  is  only  two  years  older  than  I 
am." 

"  Miss  Jenyns,"  said  Mauden,  "  is 
a  woman  of  the  world.  Some  day  I 
will  tell  you  more  about  her.  But 
now  I  want  to  hear  about  you.  I 
must  leav?  in  half  an  hour." 

"  So  soon  ? "  said  Jane.  "  I  wish 
you  hr.d  told  me  you  were  coming. 
I  should  have  had  so  much  happi- 
ness watching  for  you." 

"  I — I  came  here  on  impulse,  my 
dearest.  I — I — did  not  know  myself 
thr.t  I  was  coming  to  see  you  when 
I  left  The  Cloisters  this  morning. 
But  when  V  reached  London,  I  found 

I  could  nut;  leave  it  until  I  had ' 

He  stopped  short,  struggled  with 
his  conscience,  and  then  blurted  o  .t : 
"  Jane,  I  \vant  you  to  forgive  me  for 
something." 

"  _  or0ive  you  ?  "  she  said,  "  what 
have  you  done  ?"  and  she  kissed  his 
hand. 

"  I  am  the  meanest  beast  that 
walks,"  said  her  hero,  blushing  to 
his  finger-tips.  "  I  am,  indeed.  I  do 

not  deserve "  She  smiled  into 

his  face  with  angelic  disbelief.  "  I 
do  not  deserve  you,"  he  said,  "and 
I  have  always  known  it."  He  sighed: 
"  I  am  afraid  we  cannot  marry  for 
a  year  or  two  ?  " 


IQ4    A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Not  for  ages  !  " 

"  And  then,  there  is  your  money!  " 

"  I  can  give  most  of  it  to  the 
poor  relations.  It  will  soon  go  that 
way.  They  want  ever  so  many 
more  things  than  I  do  ?  But  you 
will  be  rich,  too,  when  you  are  a 
professor  and  write  learned  books. 
Or,  if  you  are  not  exactly  rich,  you 
will  be  famous — which  is  much 
better." 

"  You  have  always  believed  in  me. 
But  if  I  fail " 

"You  would  never  fail  ;  you 
might  be  unfortunate.  But  then  I 
could  only  love  you  more  than  ever." 

"  Write  to  me  every  day,  dearest, 
and  tell  me  that." 

"  How  much  do  you  love  me  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  he  said  solemnly; 
"  and  that  has  been  the  cause  of  all 
my  trouble." 

"What  trouble  ?" 

*'  The  trouble  I  want  you  to  for- 
give." 

She  put  her  arms  round  his  neck. 
"  Didn't  you  say,"  she  said,  "  that 
nothing  mattered  so  long  as  we 
loved  each  other?" 

"It  would  never  have  happened," 
he  stammered,  "  if  she  had  not 
looked  so  much  like  you." 

"  I  know  all  about  it,"  she  said  ; 
"don't  tell  me  any  more — unless  you 
like." 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     195 

"  But — how  do  you  know  ? " 

"  I  saw  it  in  your  face — when  I 
came  in." 

"  I  shall  never  understand 
women  !  "  exclaimed  De  Boys. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  we  are 
rather  difficult." 

"  I  never  told  her,"  he  murmured, 
"  that  I  loved  her.  It — it  was  only 
sympathy.  And,  Jane — never  write 
me  cold  letters  again." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could — after 
this  ? "  said  his  affianced. 

And  so,  I  think,  we  may  leave 
them. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


IN    WHICH    SOPHIA    WAKES    UP. 


\NY  hours  of  pain  and 
several  weeks  of  danger- 
ous illness  were  the  re- 
sult of  Sophia's  bite  at 
the  Ideal — a  result  which 


must  not  surprise  us, 
since  the  psychological  mystery  she 
tasted  is,  as  all  pious  souls  know, 
the  modern  development  of  the 
antediluvian  apple.  But  Sophia  was/ 
young  and  had  much  to  live  for  — 
much,  too,  to  atone  for.  Tears  had 
washed  the  dust  from  her  eyes  as 
only  tears  can,  and,  as  she  wept  over 
her  own  folly,  she  knew  that  she  was 
really  crying  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life.  Crystal  drops  shed  over  our 
own  excellence  are  nothing  in  the 
world.  They  may,  however,  have 
their  use  in  the  city  that  is  paved 
with  good  intentions. 

Wrath  watched  day  and  night  by 
the   bedside  of  his  wife.     Their  re- 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     197 

lationship  was  no  longer  concealed,. 
for  Nature,  who  hates  false  appear- 
ances, and  is,  in  fact,  a  very  blab  to- 
those  who  have  ears  to  hear,  had 
made  straightforwardness  necessary. 
And  Wrath,  in  spite  of  his  anxiety, 
was  happier  than  he  had  been,  even 
at  his  happiest  moments,  since  the 
day  of  the  secret  marriage.  He 
held  his  breath  at  the  shortness  of 
time  before  him  in  which  to  retrieve 
the  two  past  years  of  dissimulation, 
of  double-facedness.  As  all  peni- 
tents, he  longed  to  be  born  again, 
that  he  might  wage  a  new  life  with 
the  arts  of  an  old  experience.  He 
blamed  himself  less  for  keeping  his 
promise  to  Sophia  than  for  making 
it.  The  weakness,  the  moral  coward- 
ice of  the  matter  lay,  in  his  judgment, 
in  the  submitting  to  such  a  condition. 
It  brought  him  no  ease  of  mind  to  re- 
member that  t be-JUuiatu^  the  lover, 
and  the  poet  were  ^admitted^  T3y~a 
charitable  world  to  In-  more'of  less 
irresponsible  for  their  follies.  With 
all  his  faults  lie  \v.l^  •!<>(  a  man  to  lie 
pleasantly  to  his  own  conscience. 
He  had  acted  wrongly,  and  he  knew 
it  ;  what  was  more,  he  had  been  per- 
fectly aware  that  he  was  acting 
wrongly  when  he  gave  the  miserable 
promise.  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  marry  Sophia,  and  he  had  not  been 
willing  to  run  any  risk  of  losing  her. 


198     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

There  was  no  condition  so  unwise,  so 
ill-considered,  or  so  desperate  but  he 
would  have  accepted  it,  rather  than 
forfeit  even  one  of  her  smiles.  Such 
was  the  truth.  (If  a  man  cannot  be 
a  hero  to  his  hired  valet,  we  must  not 
wonder  if  he  looks  small  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  free  conscience.)  Fear, 
for  the  enormities  he  might  have 
committed,  was  the  other  side  of 
his  remorse  for  the  wrong  he  had 
actually  done.  It  was  an  awkward 
subject  viewed  from  any  point  of 
consideration.  But  awkward  as  it 
was,  even  grateful  in  comparison 
with  another  matter,  which  haunted 
him  constantly,  and  which  seemed 
past  forgiveness  or  hope.  This  mat- 
ter was  his  conversation  with  Lady 
Hyde-Bassett  on  that  never  to  be 
forgotten  Monday  morning.  It  was 
contemptible  enough,  God  knew,  to 
have  suspected  his  saintly  wife  of 
having  eloped  with  Mauden  ;  but 
to  have  expressed  the  despicable 
thought  in  words,  to  have  allowed 
the  curbed  jealousy  of  a  lifetime  to 
break  away  from  all  bounds  just  when 
control  was  most  necessary — what 
could  he  call  himself  ?  To  think  of 
all  this  in  the  long  hours  of  the  night, 
when  Sophia  was  lying  half-uncon- 
scious, or  in  pain,  was  a  terrible  pun- 
ishment for  his  injustice,  but  he  would 
not  own  that  it  was  terrible  enough. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     199 

One  afternoon  Sophia  woke  up 
from  a  sleep  and  found  Wrath 
watching  her.  It  was  a  daily  ex- 
perience, but  on  ^hat  particular 
afternoon  she  seemed  to  see  him 
more  distinctly  than  usual.  He 
was  looking  old  and  careworn,  and 
was  so  changed,  that  she  found  her- 
self wondering  whether  she  had  not 
lost  all  idea  of  time,  and  whether 
her  illness  had  lasted — not  a  few 
weeks  as  she  imagined — but  many 
years.  She  asked  Wrath  for  a  hand- 
glass,— she  thought  her  hair  must  be 
gray. 

He  gave  it  to  her  in  silence.  She 
looked  from  the  mirror  to  her  hus- 
band, and  from  her  husband  to  the 
mirror.  Her  face  had  not  suffered 
so  much  from  illness  as  his  from 
anxiety.  She  was  pale  in  the  cheeks, 
and  a  little  dark  round  the  eyes,  but 
otherwise  she  seemed  even  younger 
for  her  suffering.  She  might  have 
been  a  girl  in  her  first  teens. 

"  Tom,"  she  said,  "  are  you  very 
tired  ?  " 

"  Tired  ?      Oh,  no." 

"  Then  talk  to  me.  Tell  me  what 
you  are  thinking  about." 

"  I  am  thinking  of  you,"  he  said 
quietly. 

"  Don't  think  about  me — I  am 
horrid." 

This  was  quite  in  her  old  manner, 


200     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

and  for  a  moment  he  smiled.  It  was 
a  long-established  custom  between 
them,  that  she  should  call  herself 
names,  while  he  expressed  his  horror 
at  the  blasphemy.  It  was  the  usual 
prelude  to  most  of  their  conversa- 
tions. 

"  But  I  really  mean  it  to-day," 
she  said.  This  guileless  and  uncon- 
scious admission  of  the  usual  insin- 
cerity of  her  self-depreciation  made 
them  both  laugh.  It  was  Sophia's 
saving  grace  that  she  could,  at  times, 
survey  herself  from  a  distance. 
When  she  was  not  the  first,  she 
would  at  least  be  the  second,  to  mock 
at  her  own  extravagancies.  But  it 
may  be  that  she  carried  this  self- 
ridicule  to  excess,  and  saw  her 
actions  in  a  ludicrous  light  when 
they  were  rather  sad  than  funny. 
Thus  she  had  gradually  lost  all 
belief  in  her  own  earnestness.  Some- 
limes  it  seemed  that  her  love  for 
Wrath  was  a  jest,  that  life  and  death 
were  alike  jests,  that  the  world  itself 
was  the  Creator's  big  joke  with 
mankind.  Everything  was  so 
grotesque,  so  badly  rehearsed,  the 
curtain  went  up  too  soon  and 
came  down  too  late ;  parts  were 
mumbled,  or  shouted,  or  gabbled,  or 
left  unspoken  ;  cues  were  disre- 
garded ;  heroes  were  knock-kneed, 
and  heroines  had  thick  ankles ; 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     2OI 

fools  made  mirth  with  such  a 
solemn  air,  and  the  wise  were  solemn 
so  foolishly  ;  men  and  women  seemed 
not  themselves,  but  their  caricatures  ; 
it  was  all  wildly  comic,  farcical,  un- 
natural, and  inartistic.  Theonlysad 
part  was  that  one  ached  from  laugh- 
ing till  one  cried  at  the  pain.  But 
this,  too,  was  a  joke. 

There  was  something  inhuman, 
almost  cruel,  in  Sophia's  humor 
which  made  Wrath  unhappy — all  but 
fearful.  Men,  moreover,  do  not  like 
their  wives  to  have  too  clear  a  per- 
ception of  the  ludicrous — it  is  a 
masculine  theory  that  laughter  must 
be  on  the  male  side  only.  A  man 
knows  when  laughter  is  a  spoil-sport  ; 
be  can  postpone  it  when  necessary. 
But  a  woman  will  laugh — if  she 
know  how — at  the  right  moment  or 
the  wrong,  usually,  too,  when  a  man 
would  prefer  to  see  her  demure. 

Although  Wrath  joined  in  his  wife's 
merriment  on  this  particular  after- 
noon, it  did  not  seem  to  him  that 
the  occasion  was  especially  amus- 
ing. 

"  Things  are  still  ridiculous,"  she 
said  suddenly,  "  but  they  are  not 
ridiculous  in  quite  the  same  way  as 
they  used  to  be.  When  I  laugh  now, 
I  do  not  feel  so  much  like  crying.  I 
know  that  what  looks  so  absurd  at 
present,  will  one  day  be  very  grand 


202     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

and  beautiful.  Some  kinds  of 
knowledge  you  cannot  study — you 
find  them  when  you  are  looking  for 
something  else.  I  have  learnt  all 
this  by  accident.  I  cannot  tell  you 
how.  But  I  have  learnt  it  so  well 
that  I  can  never  forget  it.  I 
shall  never  again  be  so  foolish — so 
obstinate  as  I  was.  You  will  see 
such  a  difference  in  me  !  And, 
Tom — I  want  to  tell  you  about  my 
walk — that  morning." 

"  No,  no  !"  he  said  ;  "  let  me  tell 
you  something  first.  Will  you  ever 
forgive  me  ?  I — I  thought  you  were 
with  Mauden  !  " 

The  clock  had  never  ticked  so 
loudly  ;  Sophia  could  hear  nothing 
else.  Or  was  it  her  own  heart  ? 

"  I  thought  you  were  with  Mau- 
den," he  repeated.  "I  thought  you 
had  gone  to  London  with  him.  I — 
I  was  brutally  jealous " 

"  Tom  ! " 

"  I  knew  it  was  infamous.  Do 
you  think  I  will  ever  forgive  my- 
self?" 

"But,  Tom "  What  would 

he  say  if  he  knew  the  whole  truth  ? 
She  could  atone  for  her  folly  none 
the  less  because  he  knew  nothing 
about  it.  Besides,  he  would  lose  all 
respect  for  her  if  she  told  him.  He 
would  despise  her  ;  perhaps  his  love 
would  change  to  dislike.  Men,  even 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     203 

the   best,  were   not  so  forgiving  as 
women. 

"  Tom,"  she  said  desperately, 
"  you — you  were  quite  right.  I  was 
with  Mauden — I  was  going  to  Lon- 
don with  him,  but — but  I  changed 
my  mind  !  It  was  all  a  mistake.  I 
thought  you  were  tired  of  me  !  " 

She  trembled  for  his  answer.  He 
had  grown  so  pale ;  he  looked  so 
stern. 

"  You  were  going  to  London  with 
Mauden  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  did  you  change  your 
mind  ?  " 

"  Because — I  remembered  you." 

"  You  remembered  me  !  That  was 
thoughtful."  He  drew  his  hand 
across  his  brow  and  bowed  his  head. 
We  have  surely  never  such  need  to 
show  humilation  as  when  we  are  in 
the  presence  of  a  fallen  idol. 

It  is  not  the  god,  which  was  no  W 
god,  that  suffers,  but  its  former 
worshiper,  who  sees  what  appeared 
divinity,  corruption,  and  what  looked 
strength,  rottenness.  And,  in  at 
least  some  slight  degree,  this  terrible 
contemplation  must  be  made  by  all 
mortals  who  place  their  entire  faith 
in  mere  flesh  and  blood  ;  who  love 
the  creature,  which  has  beauty  that 
they  may  desire  it,  more  than  the 
Creator  whom  no  man  hath  at  any 


204     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

time  seen.  One  who  wrote  of  human 
affection  with  a  tenderness  and 
undertaking  past  comparison — who 
knew  its  infinite  power  and  no  less 
infinite  weakness — one  who  has 
taught  that  by  loving  man  we  best 
learn  how  to  love  his  Maker,  has  also 
warned  us — "  Keep  yourselves  from 
idols." 

Wrath,  in  his  hour  of  disillusion, 
had  no  words  ;  the  tragedy  of  com- 
mon life  lies  in  the  thinking — not 
in  the  speaking. 

The  sound  at  last  reached  him  of 
a  woman  crying ;  he  looked,  and 
though  he  no  longer  beheld  a 
heavenly  spirit,  infallible  and  sinless, 
he  saw  his  wife. 

"  You  forget — the  circumstances," 
sobbed  Sophia.  "  I  was  not  well, 
and  think  how  ill  I  have  been  !  " 

His  frown  vanished,  but  it  left  a 
scar.  "  My  dearest,"  he  said  gently, 
"  whatever  has  happened,  I  know  it 
has  all  been  my  fault  !  My  fault 
entirely  !  I  shall  never  cease  to  re- 
proach myself." 

"  Let  me  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said 
Sophia  ;  and  then  between  laughter 
and  tears  she  confessed  the  whole 
story.  "  Poor  young  Mauden  is 
not  to  blame,"  she  wound  up,  "be- 
cause he  did  not  know  I  was  mar- 
ried !  " 

"  My    fault    entirely  !  "    repeated 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     205 

Wrath.  And  what  a  relief  it  was  to 
shift  all  her  burden  on  his  own 
shoulders  !  He  wasthe  transgressor — 
the  brute  beast  with  no  understand, 
ing — she  was  still  his  angel  of  light. 

"  You  are  so  good  to  me,"  she 
whimpered,  "but  I  will  never  be  so 
wicked  again." 

"  There  shall  be  no  more  of  these 
detestable  circumstances,"  he  said. 

"  I  don't  mind  them  so  much,  if  I 
know  what  they  mean,"  said  Sophia, 
"and  next  time,  of  course,  I  shall 
know  !  Some  day  I  want  to  have  a 
son,  and  I  want  him  to  be  just  like 
you !  " 

"  It  is  impossible  to  look  into  the 
future,-"  said  Wrath;  "but  if — by 
any  chance — we  had  a  son,  I  think 
he  would  be  rather  remarkable." 

"  He  would  be  a  genius,"  said 
Sophia. 

"  But  he  must  have  your  face," 
said  Wrath. 

"  No,"  said  Sophia,  "  if  he  is  not 
exactly  like  you,  I  shall  be  disap- 
pointed." 

"  I  think,"  said  Wrath,  "  we  must 
make  him  a  lawyer.  He  might  be- 
come Lord  Chancellor  ?  " 

"  Or  he  might  be  a  Cardinal. 
Wouldn't  that  be  nicer  ?  " 

At  which  moment,  Lady  Hyde- 
Bassett  came  in  with  some  flowers 
for  the  invalid. 


206     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

"  Margaret,"  said  Sophia,  "  if  you 
had  a  son,  would  you  rather  see  him 
a  Cardinal  or  a  Lord  Chancellor  ? 

because  we  were  just  saying " 

Wrath  strode  away  to  the  window. 

And    looking    out,    he    saw    a   fair 

world.      How   wrong   it  was  to  be 

cynical  !     As  if  there  was  no  such 

thing  as  earthly  happiness.     Away  ! 

/away  !  ye  philosophers  of  the  mud- 

Y^  heap.     The  soul  of  man  is  a  garden 

\    where,  as  he  sows,  so  he  shall  reap. 

\  If  ye  would  gather  roses,  do  not  sow 

rotten  seeds.     Away  !  away  ! 


EPILOGUE. 

'HEN  Lady  Jane  Shannon 
attained  her  one-and- 
twentieth  year  she  mar- 
ried the  brilliant  young 
scholar  De  Boys  Mauden, 
who,  at  present,  is  editing 
Plato  as  he  has  never  been  edited 
before,  and  never  will  be  again. 
As  this  magnificent  enterprise  will 
occupy  some  nine  hours  of  each  day 
for  the  next  thirty  years  of  his  life, 
we  may  safely  assume  that  much 
fame  will  accrue  to  his  literary 
executors. 

The  Earl  of  Warbeck  astonished 
society  by  becoming  first  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  then  a  priest.  This 
did  not  kill  his  grandmother,  as  many 
people  feared  it  might,  but  she  lived 
many  years  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of 
writing  wills  in  his  favor  and  revok- 
ing them  at  the  rate  of  three  a  month. 
He  also  dined  with  her  frequently, 
because,  as  she  told  her  friends,  she 
would  never  despair  of  converting 


208     A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS. 

him   back    to    Christianity   and    the 
usual  number  of  commandments. 

Farmer  Battle  and  Miss  Caroline 
Battle  are  still  living,  and  rank  next 
in  Jane's  heart  after  De  Boys  and  a 
certain  small  edition  of  De  Boys. 
This  young  gentleman  already  hofds 
a  decided  opinion  on  the  due  sub- 
jection of  women  to  their  lords  :  an 
opinion  which  Jane  has  her  own 
method  of  refuting — a  method  so 
subtle,  however,  that  Mauden  has 
never  yet  been  able  to  perceive  it. 
He  is  only  conscious  that  his  wife's 
will  looks  so  much  like  his  own,  that 
he  is  never  able  to  tell  which  is  which. 
He,  at  all  events,  gives  the  word  of 
command  and  she  always  wears  an 
air  of  the  most  charming  obedience. 
Why  analyze  such  an  harmonious 
condition  of  things? 

Lady  Hyde-Bassett  lived  long 
enough  to  see  her  dear  Eliza  married 
to  Mr.  Claverhouse  Digges,  the 
editor  of  the  Argus.  It  was  the  last 
match  Margaret  made,  and,  as  she 
declared,  the  most  satisfactory. 
She  died  very  peacefully — if  rather 
suddenly — and  her  last  words  were, 
that  she  had  never  been  so  happy. 
It  was  quite  impossible  to  mourn  over 
one  who  showed  such  relief  at  leav- 
ing this  world,  and  who  enjoyed  such 
a  full  and  perfect  assurance  of  the 
next.  Her  great  wealth  was  left  as. 


A  STUDY  IN  TEMPTATIONS.     209 

a  bequest  to  be  used  for  the  support 
of  such  scholars,  authors,  and  artists, 
who  professed  to  do  good  works  for 
nothing,  than  bad  work  for  large 
fees.  The  bequest  is  now  managed 
by  a  committee,  and  it  has.  not  been 
of  service  to  those  for  whom  her 
ladyship  intended  it.  But  her  inten- 
tions were  good,  and  the  starving 
scholars,  authors,  and  artists  who  see 
the  prosperous,  incompetent,  and 
dishonest  making  off  with  their 
treasure,  have,  let  us  hope,  none  the 
less  gratitude  for  Lady  Hyde-Bas- 
sett's  benevolent  design. 

Wrath  and  Sophia  have  a  small 
daughter,  and  now  they  wonder  why 
they  wanted  a  son.  She  is  such  an 
amazing  and  unique  creation.  They 
have  named  her  "  Margaret,"  after 
one  they  both  loved — but  Wrath 
especially.  Had  she  not  believed  in 
Sophia  when  even  he  himself  had 
doubted  her  ? 


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